Reeds
by Forever or Never
Summary: "She has many faces. Unlock them first before you start dating." "What does that mean?" "It means," Nino said, "you also have to show her your dorky side." Alya slapped him in the forehead. "I wasn't gonna say that, you twit, but you're still right." She faced Adrien's eyes with amusement. "Your new assignment is to get to know Mari during the whole marching band season."
1. Abs

**A/N:** Also posted on AO3. Just a random thought I had, because why not have a Marching Band AU? It'll be a long ride. Now's your chance to avoid being sucked in.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Mari! Let's start our leg exercises, or else we'll die by the end of Band Camp," Alya whined over the phone, draping her body across her bed. She relished the feeling of her cotton sweats and light sweater, humming in satisfaction as she reached her hand into the air and started making random gestures.

On the other side of the line, Marinette was already dressed in short pants and a tank top, tying her shoes as her shoulder pressed her phone to her ear. She glanced down at her wristwatch: 7:48AM. _Let's see if I can get there in three minutes._

"I'm already on my way, Al. See you in five?"

Marinette stood up and pulled her phone farther from her face while she said goodbye to her parents (all while avoiding her mother's inquiries on location, who she was going to be with, and time of return), and then stepped outside into the sidewalk in front of the bakery.

"What? You're already coming? Shitshitshit"—Marinette snickered—"okay, see you in five minutes," she heard over the rustling of Alya's phone scraping against her bedsheets.

"Kk, bye." Marinette hung up and slipped her phone into her armband. She drew in a deep breath, adjusting her tight ponytail as she pulled her foot into her back.

With one last wave to her parents through the bakery's windows, she jogged, feeling her muscles tense up in exhilaration.

:..:

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: golden child  
**cone over and bring ur sax i need help in the secnd song

Adrien released a tight exhale as he urged his body to curl up into one final crunch. Sweat dribbled down his jawline and onto his collarbone as he flopped onto his back once again, reaching for his buzzing phone. Breathing heavily and holding it above his face, he slowly punched in the letters.

 **From: golden child  
To: sexamaphone bro  
** what do u want. Im at the gym, figure it out by urself

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: golden child  
** rude  
I jst need help wit a few measures. plesea

Adrien groaned, letting the back of his hand thump onto the hardwood floor and flipping onto his stomach. He crawled onto his knees, making noises of effort as he stood and slung his gym bag over his shoulder, keeping his water bottle pinned against his side with his elbow as he texted. He was slowly walking with his eyes on his phone, greeting his acquaintances with a distracted nod.

 **From: golden child  
To: sexamaphone bro  
** w'ell see. Idk if I can make it, dinner wth dad

The saxophonist gave the woman at the counter a small grin and a wave as he pushed through the front doors, wincing as he was slapped in the face with 96 degree weather.

And if he kept his emerald eyes up long enough, he would have seen a certain ravenette sprinting by, her face and chest glistening with perspiration. But his phone vibrated four times in his clammy grip, snatching his attention from his surroundings.

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: golden child  
** NOOIIOIOO  
plz I need u more than he needs u  
besides its only like 12  
dude

Adrien's kinetic memory kicked in as he swerved around people and made turns only his body would know. He let out an exasperated huff, running his fingers through his damp hair and lifting his eyes when he stopped at a crossing road. Quickly, he typed in his response before pocketing his device.

 **From: golden child  
To: sexamaphone bro  
** Fine.

:..:

"Welcome, welcome, to my humble abode," Nino said grandly as he swung open the doors and spread out his arms.

Adrien listlessly stared at him, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt with his tenor sax case swaying in his hand. Clutched to his chest were sheet music and his phone. They looked at each other without saying a word until Nino coughed awkwardly, feeling a bit guilty that he had dragged his busy friend over.

 _Ah well, he's already here._ Nino mentally shrugged.

"Come in, come in," he said, ushering and steering Adrien up the stairs and into his room.

Once he shut the door, Adrien placed down his instrument and sat on his computer chair all while Nino scrubbed his short hair with his palms.

"Dude, dude, dude, I'm so screwed." He paced across the floor, cursing whenever his toes got caught in a pair of pants or underwear.

The blond sighed, looking around the room. "'A few measures' was an understatement, right?" With one perfect eyebrow raised, Adrien blankly stared at him, though a hint of a smirk was twitching. Nino nodded. "Where's your Bari?"

Nino nodded towards the door. "Downstairs."

He squinted at the tanned teen, confusion plastered on his face. "Then _why_ did you bring me here?" he asked, spinning in his chair with the papers resting on his lap.

"Because if my mom hears me perform like the shitty player I am, she's gonna take my phone away," he said. "Dude, you _know_ I can't live without my phone." He leaned towards Adrien and jabbed his firm chest with his finger. A mischievous smile curled on his lips. "I got a woman to entertain."

Adrien groaned, pushing himself up and walking out. Nino yelled for him to come back. "It's time, Nino," he said dramatically as he turned around, a grin threatening to break out. "Let's make your mama proud."

Nino let out an exaggerated wail as if his lover had just died. He fell onto his knees, sobbing into the floor while Adrien turned away, a fake expression of guilt and hurt appearing.

Meanwhile, Nino's mother just exited the laundry room with a hamper on her hip and witnessed, what she presumed, a breakup scene.

(Later that night during dinner, long after Adrien had left, Nino's mother placed a hand on his own and told him, "There are many fish in the sea. You just have to pick the right one.")

:..:

For the next few days, Alya and Marinette did the same routine: meet at eight, do static exercises till 8:30, and run for a bit under an hour.

"One more week till Band Camp!" Alya cheered, groaning as her body slammed into her comforters. She kicked her shoes off, moaning, "And yet my leg muscles haven't improved a bit." The auburn-haired clarinet player was out of breath from suffering through 45 minutes worth of running. Her thighs and calves were screaming, while Mari was still standing upright, a bit out of breath.

Marinette sat down onto her friend's chair, moving the mouse of her computer to wake up the monitor. The screen lit, showing a conversation with someone dubbed _Ho._

She turned around in her chair, brows furrowed.

"Alya, who's _Ho_?"

Alya was dozing off as she honestly mumbled back, "My more-than-a-friend." After receiving a silence begging for an explanation, she elaborated, "We're not dating, but we're not _just_ friends, you know what I mean?" Alya rolled over onto her back and sat up with her arms supporting her upper body.

Marinette blinked at her before scolding, "You know you're not supposed to meet random people online, right?"

The other rolled her eyes. "He goes to our school _and_ he's in our grade. Re _lax_ , Mari." At her unwavering stare, she broke out laughing and slapped her bare thighs. "It's Nino, remember? Nino Lahiffe."

Her jaw dropped and she bolted up to her feet with a happy smile. "No. Way. The kid that's been fangirling over you after I rejected him?"

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's the kid with the _very_ handsome friend that _you've_ been obsessing over." At this comment, Marinette's cheeks lit up as she petulantly crossed her arms.

"He's a great sax player, that's all," she grumbled, pouting.

"Mhmm," she said blatantly, "so when are you gonna make a move on him?"

"What now?"

"For the past two years in symphonic band _and_ in marching band, I've been watching you two skirt around each other, blushing and sputtering like _idiots_. He _likes_ you!"

"No, he doesn't!" she yelled defiantly, though she sat down beside Alya and released a defeated exhale. "I wish," she whispered, hanging her head low so her bangs covered her sapphire eyes.

Just then, her computer chimed when another message popped up on the screen. With an excited squeal, Alya darted to her computer, hunching down to its level. Her hazel eyes skimmed the text, and a sparkle glimmered in her eyes.

With a sly smirk, she said, "Take a shower and get your clarinet. We're gonna meet Nino and _Adrien_ "—Marinette's spine straightened—"at his house Nino's in thirty minutes."

And twenty minutes later, Marinette was standing outside Alya's bathroom wearing high-waist, tropical-design shorts with a pastel pink tank top a few sizes larger tucked in. The arm holes stooped down to show her sports bra, emphasizing her thin figure.

Alya proudly clapped her hands. " _That's_ my daughter. We're gonna seduce the living daylights out of the Agreste kid." She swung her arm around Marinette's shoulder, leaning in with a grin.

"And Nino is gonna die from blood loss when he sees you like _that._ " Blue eyes ran over Alya's larger, curvier body.

She wore a camouflage crop top and short jeans, which showed off her tan legs. A strip of her stomach peeked through whenever she made sudden movements or if she leaned over something, which Marinette was confident she would do.

"Lookin' good. Now let's go!" Alya declared.

Marinette remained planted on the ground with an amused smile. "You're forgetting something."

". . . My clarinet?"

"Yup."

"Ah . . ."

"And don't forget we have to stop by my house to pick up Claire."

Alya stomped her feet on the floor. "We're gonna be late. And tell me why, exactly, do you name your clarinet?"

She said nothing and instead hooked her arm through Alya's. "We have ten minutes. Let's go."

:..:

"She's what?" Adrien asked, panic settling into his stomach. They were in Nino's house yet again, this time in the living room where two stands have been placed.

Nino was sucking on his reed, adjusting the mouth piece on the neck of his baritone sax. He stared at him and said slowly with a slight lisp, "Alya is coming with Marinette." He accentuated each word as best as he could.

"Marinette?" he squeaked, popping his reed into his mouth to keep his tongue and lips occupied. Adrien's cheeks flamed up, serving as a reminder of his teeny, tiny attraction.

"Ask her out."

Adrien spluttered, "Wha? No way! We have to become _friends_ before we can actually . . . _date._ " He distracted his hands by clipping on the strap and hanging his tenor on his neck. He fumbled with the keys, keeping his eyes down. "But she seems scared of me."

The clicking noise of the metal against metal made Nino's brows twitch. And suddenly, he sprung up, the bari smacking against his knees.

"Okay . . . Okay!" he yelled, spit flying out and around his reed, which was still sticking out from his mouth, "today you're gonna take your first step. And at Band Camp, we'll test the waters."

"But—"

"Here they are," he said, walking towards the door after glancing out the window. But before his form disappeared around the corner, he leaned back and gave him a thumb-up.

And on cue, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the two females and the death of Adrien.

:..:

 _You're sitting next to him, you're sitting next to him,_ Marinette's mind chanted. She gripped her clarinet tighter, pressing her fingertips against the open holes.

The four friends were sitting in a circle, Nino and Adrien on the sofas while Alya and Marinette dragged over dining chairs. They were reviewing all three songs, working on rhythm and keeping a steady beat during the particularly slow piece.

"No, Nino," Alya sighed, tucking her clarinet into her elbow and clapping the rhythm, "It's one and two and—and four and. There's a rest _right there_."

Nino blasted into his instrument in frustration, a boat horn resulting. Marinette squeaked and Alya glared harder at him.

"I don't like your attitude," she said in a low, mock-threatening tone. He only scowled at her. "Marinette!" she suddenly screamed.

"Y-yes!" said girl shouted, her slouching figure straightening immediately.

"Convert Nino's part and _show him how it's done_."

Marinette grumbled and pouted, sighing as she stood up and climbed behind Adrien onto the couch. She kneeled between him and Nino, feeling emerald eyes on her as her knees sagged into the cushions.

She read over the notes, mentally converting them into B flat. Then, once she was sure she got the right notes down, she began playing the measures Nino was having difficulty on.

Adrien, in the meantime, gulped upon seeing a patch of smooth, pale skin right below her bra. He nervously look away, scraping his bottom teeth on his reed and blew warm air through his instrument, praying to God that he wouldn't squeak during their session. He was thankful already though; Alya hadn't picked on him . . . yet.

When Marinette finished, she was about to return to her seat when—

"Now play Adrien's part," both Alya and Nino demanded, matching smirks on their lips.

"But they're different parts, a completely different rhythm," Adrien argued, shooting her a nervous grin. She flushed under his look, fiddling with her keys and nodded weakly.

"And besides," she added in, "I'm sure Adrien's got it." The confidence in her voice gave his ego a little boost.

The blond bobbed his instrument on his knees. "Yeah, I already know my part, unlike a certain _someone_." Nino waved at him, unaffected by his death glare.

"Fine." Alya crossed her arms, her clarinet held between her knees. "Then play."

He shrugged nonchalantly, Marinette gaping at him. But inside was pure turmoil.

 _I'm gonna screw up. But that's okay. We're all_ friends _here, right? Hahaha . . ._

Nonetheless, he licked his lips and began playing a smooth, velvety melody. It was perfect until the last measure, where he had to hold out a note for eight beats.

At the very end, a tiny squeak ruined it. Heat flooded to his cheeks, yet all three clapped for him, wows from Alya, whooping from Nino, and a gentle smile from Marinette. He wasn't used to this praise. When he practiced in his father's presence, he would brace himself for critique and scolding for not trying harder.

So, Adrien exaggerated a bow to cover up his insecurity, chuckling as he stood up and opened his arms. "Thank you, thank you." One arm crossed over his stomach as he continued bowing.

Marinette was enjoying this. She giggled when Adrien couldn't push his body anymore forward due to his tenor and smiled when his full laugh reached her ears.

"Well I bet you can't play _this_ high," Alya challenged, closing her eyes as she played a third-octave E. Mari capped her hands over her ears, hugging her clarinet to her chest as she desperately hid behind her knees. Nino winced and Adrien brought up his shoulders to cover his ears.

The note lasted for sixteen full beats before she killed it with a satisfied sigh. Alya's face had gone pink due to the lack of oxygen and was heaving.

"Beat that, _Agreste_."

"Alya, no," Nino groaned.

Marinette peeked her head above the tops of her knees, a glare directed at her.

"Well, can you beat _this_?!" Her competitive side kicked in as she deeply inhaled and blew the highest note: C. She tightened her lips and stood still and straight, pulling out tightest air she could muster.

Alya fell off her chair, clawing at her ears while the two boys beside the ravenette jerked away from her as if they had been shocked. Adrien laughed, tucking his head into his arms as he fell onto his side, gracefully handling his tenor with care.

Marinette flopped forward, elbows resting on her knees, head down, and shoulders bobbing up and down. A few seconds later, she weakly looked up and said, "Beat that."

Then she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes with a slight smile.

"You ain't dead, right?" Nino said, his voice appearing directly in front of her. His breath fanned her face. She wrinkled her nose.

"Nah, she's just tired," Alya said on her behalf.

Nino snorted. "What'd she do? Play video games for two hours straight?"

Marinette imagined Alya's motherly side take over as she frowned. "No," she said, " _we_ ran for an hour"—she knew it was a white lie (more like 45 minutes)—"did 50 squats"— _45_ —"40 push ups"— _30_ —"and 50 crunches." _42\. We gave up because you were about to cry_ , Marinette thought, her neutral face lifting into a smile.

Adrien whistled. "Wow. I didn't know you two worked out so much." Marinette could sense his breathtaking smile.

Alya gasped, and she knew what was going to come out of her mouth. So she chewed on her bottom lip and waited with bated breath as Alya exclaimed, "Have you _seen_ her abs?"

"That's a lie," Nino accused incredulously after a heavy silence.

"A lie it is not," Alya said. "I speak the truth. Now if she's sleeping, we can—"

Instinctively, Marinette rolled over so that her stomach was facing the back of the sofa. Then she glared at them over her shoulder, seeing Nino's blank expression, Alya's pride, and Adrien's confusion. Nino and Adrien unclipped their instruments from their neck.

"I am not lifting my shirt for you creeps," she scowled.

Alya smirked. "Oh I know," she said lowly. " _You're_ not gonna lift your shirt up, but _we will_!"

As if they had all schemed this behind her back, Adrien grabbed for her ankles, Nino pinned her arms above her head, and Alya crept towards her.

Marinette was yelling at the top of her lungs. "Rape! RAPE!" She thrashed in their grip, punching Nino in the shoulder and kicking Adrien in his chest.

"My parents aren't home. So no one can hear you," Nino said darkly.

Alya was standing above her, cackling and wiggling her fingers closer and closer to the top of her pants. "Don't look at me like that," she cooed. "I'm only doing this for your own good."

"Don't do it, Alya," she muttered, shaking her head. "Don't. Do. It."

Her friend shrugged casually and tore her shirt from its tucked-in state, bringing the hem up to her sports bra. Marinette screeched, long and deafening that Adrien covered his now-sensitive ears with his shoulder.

When she quieted down, three heads popped over her to look.

" _Woah_ ," they gasped, drinking in the sight of Marinette's muscles that were quivering as she breathed.

Adrien felt his cheeks warm up, but he couldn't tear his gaze away.

"See? Marinette is _ripped_ ," Alya said proudly, standing back with her hands on her hips and admiring her work.

Now free from her imprisoned state, she lunged forward, lightly tackling all three of them down. After many yells, laughs, and breathless begs, Marinette sat on a pile of three bodies: Nino on the bottom, Alya in the middle, and Adrien on top . . . _where her butt was on top of his back_.

She was about to jump up and run away and beg for forgiveness, but she had an ego to take care of. So, she relaxed on her throne, cleaning her nails and humming their marching band song.

Nino wheezed between puffs, "Get off. I can't breathe."

"Me neither," said Alya.

Marinette felt a muscle twitch in Adrien's lower back.

"Then use your last breath to apologize," she said, voice even.

"Sorry! Now gET OFF ME!"

"Sorry, Mari."

"Umm, I'm sorry."

She hopped off, dusting her hands and cocking one hip out, her hands findings its place on her hips. A triumphant smirk crawled onto her face. "Now you all know _not_ to randomly lift up my shirt." She paused, staring in the distance as she pondered. "Who _does_ that? That's so inappropriate!"

"Hey! It's okay if you're alone with someone else. Aah, y'know what I mean? Mm? Mmm?" Alya shot her a flirtatious wink, earning an expressionless look from her friend.

"Ew, you're all so gross," Nino whispered, shaking his head and adjusting the strap on his neck. He took in a breath through gritted teeth. "Thanks guys, now I have a burn on the back of my neck," he said.

"Well that's _your_ fault for trying to _rape_ me!" she yelled, face red.

"Woah, woah, calm down," Adrien said, laughing as he patted her shoulder. She turned around, a glare settled on her face. Since when was he behind her? She could feel his instrument bump against the back of her thighs whenever he moved. "That's a bit extreme, right?"

"Hmph," she mumbled, staring at his lips for a split and looking away before she was too obvious.

After she averted her eyes, he kept his gaze on the back of her neck, right under the part where her hair split into two sections. His hands itched to inch down the length of her arm and hold her hand.

"Well!" Alya interrupted, breaking their tiny moment. She pushed herself onto her feet with huffs. "Tomorrow's auditions for drum major, and we're all gonna meet at Marinette's house before we watch our precious Adrien and Marinette go, 'kay?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued, busying her hands by taking apart her clarinet. "Sabine makes the best omelets, so we're gonna be there by seven, a'ight?"

"And who decided this?" Nino asked, raising a brow at her.

"I did," Alya said.

"I don't know if my mom will really want that much company. It's near opening time; I don't know if she has time to make us all breakfast," Marinette murmured, walking towards her clarinet case and unlatching it to put her instrument away.

"I'll have to ask Father. He _loves_ having me under his control," Adrien said, crouching down to unlock his case and carefully place his tenor after separating his body from the strap. He closed it with a loud _thwump_ , sighing as he stood up again.

Alya gawked at them, betrayal written across her face. "No. _No._ Nope, nuh-uh. I am _not_ letting my children escape my offer. You are _all_ attending, got it?"

Nino groaned, Marinette glared, and Adrien pouted.

"Great!" She beamed ignorantly, grabbing Marinette's hand and dragging her out the door. "See you all tomorrow! And thanks, Nino!"

"Bye!" he replied.

"Bye Alya, bye Marinette," Adrien muttered.

When the door closed, Nino turned around and smirked. "Tomorrow is gonna be a good day."

* * *

 **A/N:** Machonette makes an appearance lol. Playing 4th octave A is death, by the way. Sorry for the typos :c

See you later!


	2. Drum Major Tryouts

**A/N:** beware of implied ladynoir ;) And btw, you guys have the nicer version (I plan on re-uploading on ao3 bc here is much better.)

Enjoy you people c:

* * *

Marinette awoke at 6:30 due to Alya's constant texting. She lifted her head up from her pillow, smacking her hand around till she found her phone, and unplugging it from its charger. As she rolled onto her stomach, she opened up the texts, reading with bleary eyes.

 **From: best clarinet bud**  
 **To: 1st clairenette**  
girl  
u awake?  
if not…  
wake  
uo  
waek  
upp  
WAE UP WAKEU P WAEK UPP

 **From: 1st clairenette**  
 **To: best clarinet bud**  
stfu  
lemme have my sleep

Ignoring the next few buzzes, she got up, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back, feeling her bones and muscles crack and stretch. She released a strangled exhale, smelling the morning breath. She cringed and crawled to her closet, changing out of her sleepwear.

Ten minutes later, she was standing in front of her full-body mirror in her room.

She inspected her clothes, approving of the outfit sluggishly. It was a simple t-shirt and mid-thigh short pants. Then, she ran her fingers through her moist hair. _I took a shower last night. WHY ARE YOU NOT DRY?!_ She made a grumpy noise as she pouted.

Another buzz.

Marinette rolled her eyes and landed on her chaise, checking the time. 6:48.

 **From: best clarinet bud**  
 **To: 1st clairenette**  
we outside  
open up

"Shiiiit," she whispered. She still had to tell her mother about her friends' meetup. She scurried down the stairs, jumping the last two and yelling, "Mom! Mom? _Mom_ , where are you?"

She heard a muffled, distant voice in the basement. She opened the door, revealing the steps to the basement and leaned her head in, saying, "Mom? You in here?"

"Yes, Marinette?" From the slightly winded breath of her mother's response, she assumed she was doing laundry.

"Oh, okay, umm," she said, twirling her loose hair, "my friends—they made unexpected plans to meet here in, like, two seconds." She held in her breath, awaiting her mother's response.

A pause.

"Oh, okay."

"T-that's not it," Marinette added in, shifting her weight to her other foot. "They also want your omelets . . ."

"That's fine." The click of the washing machine door and sandals scraping against an uneven floor greeted her ears. "How many people?" Her voice was much clearer as Sabine approached the steps.

"Four, including me." The steps creaked as Sabine walked up the stairs.

"Let me guess: You, Alya, Nino, and Adrien?" At her mother's knowing stare, Marinette blushed and nodded. "Is there a reason for this meetup?" Sabine asked as she gently pushed her daughter out of the way to close the door.

"It's the drum major tryouts today. I've been practicing conducting the last few weeks, so Alya wants to see me off," she explained, following her mother to the kitchen. She grabbed the egg carton from the fridge and leaned against the counter, watching Sabine crack and whisk the eggs with chopsticks.

"Oh yeah, that's right," Sabine hummed. "Isn't Adrien trying out, too?"

Her red face served as an answer. The mother chuckled.

Sabine heard a rapping noise on the glass door and looked up, pausing in her mixing. A grin made its way onto the older woman's lips. She looked at her daughter and pointed to the door with her lips.

"Your friends are here. Don't flip the sign yet and let them in," she instructed, smiling when she saw Marinette's red cheeks.

"Thanks Mom," she said, kissing her cheek and running towards the front door.

:..:

It was before seven, and Nino and Alya were already leaning against the front windows. Adrien just arrived, a binder swinging in his grip.

"Why are you here so early?" he asked, joining them against the wall.

"And why are you so late?" Alya barked, glancing at him before her eyes went back on the phone.

Adrien looked at Nino for an explanation. He shrugged.

She impatiently tapped her foot against the pavement, fingers clicking against the surface of her screen. "Mari read my texts but didn't reply. That fucking whore," she muttered darkly under her breath.

"Alya," Nino placed a hand on her shoulder, "it's early. You know how Mari is in the morning."

Said girl groaned, banging the back of her head against the panes of glass. "She's gonna be late every single morning at band camp."

Nino shrugged. "Wasn't she for the last two years?"

"No," Adrien interjected. "She started to become tardy last year. Freshman year, she was always on her toes."

Nino smirked, nudging their shoulders together. "Ah? Ahhhh? Is that what I think it is? The first signs of love? Ah? Ahh?" He continued to annoy the blond with his poking. Adrien harshly shoved his shoulder against his, knocking the bari sax player into Alya.

"No," Adrien retorted weakly.

"What caused you to be so smitten with our Marinette? You've been treading on the line of friends and acquaintances for two years already," Nino said.

"I like her . . . confidence," he answered honestly. "And she's just a really good person, y'know?" Alya lowered her phone to eavesdrop into the conversation. "She's a fantastic clarinet player, she knows how to get people back on task, and she's a great leader . . . And Camp is really fun when she's . . . _there_." He shrugged, pursing his lips. "But I haven't been able to interact with her lately."

"Bruh," Alya said, cutting in.

"The thing is," he started, interrupting her, "it's hard when she clams up around me. But around you"—he gestured to Nino and Alya lazily—"she's so funny. But when she's lumped with me," he sighed with a pout, "I feel like I'm scaring her."

" _Bruh_ ," she was about to spill everything about Marinette's crush until the door opened, the blue-black haired girl standing in the entrance way.

Alya had never been so mad in her life. _I was literally about to get them together, and Marinette—the one who wants this the most—interrupts me?! What is my life?_

"Hi guys," she said breathlessly, "sorry for being so late."

"What time is it?" Nino asked, walking past her into the bakery. Their noses were filled with pleasant smells of sugar, baking bread, and fried egg.

"Seven something," Adrien said, greeting her with a smile. She reflected it without thinking, which meant no blushing or stuttering. (Alya recorded this event in her notes.)

"Yeah," Marinette said sheepishly. "Anyways, come in. Mom is still making the omelets, though."

"I wonder whose fault _that_ is," Alya snorted. Marinette glared at her.

"You made the sudden plans," she retorted. "Maybe if you just pushed the time back a bit . . ."

"Tch." Alya gave her a quick hug and a _good luck_ before leading the group to a table close to the back rooms but still near the windows. "Mari, sit next to me!" she childishly complained, tugging on her wrist.

"What's with the sudden change in mood?" Marinette raised her brows, a chuckle slipping past her lips. She sat down anyway, ignoring Alya's prodding.

"I'm just excited for you and Adrien. My babies are gonna do so well," she said. Adrien nodded his thanks and placed his binder on the table. That reminded her . . . "Oh Mari," she abruptly said.

"Mm?"

"Where's your binder?"

Realization struck her features: her eyes widened, her smile faltered, and her body stiffened. In her mind, everything was haywire. _Where is it? Under my bed? In my bed? Under my pillow? No, it's on the desk, right? No! Did I leave it at Nino's? Ahhh, butts._

Adrien and Nino watched with amusement as they saw her thoughts flicker in her expressive eyes. Alya watched them react to her, snickering and shaking her head, whispering, "Oh Mari, Mari."

"Umm," she managed to reply, emanating a laugh from all her friends. "I'm gonna be right back," she slowly said, stretching her leg out and slinking into the back room. Once she turned the corner, she ran up the stairs, two at a time.

And when she reached her bedroom, she ran in circles, ripping off her blanket, throwing her pillow, tripping over her ladder rungs and blanket as she jumped off her loft, and saw it there. Right on her chaise. Which was in the middle of her room.

All that energy: wasted.

Marinette hung her head, defeated. "I need to get more organized," she muttered to herself, swooping the binder from the cushion and heading downstairs.

"Here, Marinette," Sabine said once her foot landed on the floor. "Bring these to the table."

"Mom, my hands are—"

Sabine dumped four plates into her arms, shooing her off with a smile. Marinette rolled her eyes, thanking her as she roll-stepped to the table.

Adrien saw her balancing two plates on top of her binder, the other two haphazardly tipping on her shoulders. Being the gentleman that he was, he got up and took the ones on her shoulders, receiving a winded thanks. His mind was still racing from the conversation that went on during Marinette's disappearance, so he only nodded distractedly.

 _"Get to know her first before you ask her out," Alya advised with a serious look in her eyes. "She has many faces, and you have to unlock them first before you start dating."_

 _"What does that mean?"_

 _"It means," Nino said this time, "you also have to show her your dorky side."_

 _Alya slapped him in the forehead. "I wasn't gonna say that, you twit, but you're still right." Then she looked at Adrien. "She's got so many personalities, and she wants you to discover them before you ask her out. So"—she straightened her shirt and cleared her throat—"your new assignment is to get to know Mari during the whole marching band season."_

Mari distributed the plates to Nino and Alya, sitting down and thanking Adrien when he offered her a plate. He sat down across from her, watching as she set her binder under her plate.

They stared at their food, Marinette sighing and saying, "I'll get the utensils." She got up, drew in a deep breath, and walked back to the kitchen.

Nino stabbed Adrien's side with his elbow, the blond shouting as he flinched back.

"What the hell?" Adrien whisper-screamed, shoving Nino's shoulder into the window. Alya shot them a hard glare as a signal to stop when a few decorations hanging on the window swayed to their movements.

"You can practice together," he suggested, waggling his brows at him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, still confused.

"Conducting. Perfect each other's conducting so you can beat Kim," he said.

Alya hummed and nodded in agreement. She paused from wafting the eggs' delicious smell into her face as she said, " _And_ Alix. Kim's been dead-set on getting the drum major position since he was a freshman. I bet he started practicing in eighth grade. And there's Alix. They're so competitive, you _all_ have an equal chance of getting in. But they're only accepting two this year."

Adrien stared between the two of them, astonishment on his face. "You're kidding."

The two of them shook their heads.

"Nope," Nino said. "That's why you should practice with Marinette. Ooh, here she comes. Good luck, tiger." He whispered the last few words quickly, giving him one more jab in the side before accepting the utensils from Marinette.

"Here, I also got some water bottles" she said, sitting down and leaning her forehead against her hands that were propped up. "I'm all over the place. I'm so sorry."

"Nervous?" Adrien asked, giving her a sympathetic smile. She nodded, shooting him a grin of her own before eating. "You know," he started, eyes flickering from his egg to her eyes. She was chewing softly behind her fingers and was blinking at him, waiting for him to continue, but with Alya's suggestive look and Nino's continuous kicking beneath the table, he started to have second thoughts. "Umm, we could practice together," he said, spooning some of the food into his mouth as an excuse to remain quiet for a bit longer.

Marinette swallowed and gasped, a smile stretching across her cheeks. "Really? That'd be great! Thank you." She brought the fork to her lips and peered over Alya's shoulder, staring at her phone screen. Baby blue irises rolled. "Alya, eat while you eat."

"Okay," she groaned, placing the device face-down. "By the way, it's around 7:20. What time does it start?"

"Eight," Adrien and Marinette simultaneously answered. They looked at each other and started to snicker.

Alya rose a brow and Nino smiled smugly. He leaned over the table and whispered, "I think we're the perfect duo to set these dense idiots up."

"Agreed."

After Sabine had generously swept by to take their plates, Adrien and Marinette moved to another table to start practicing. They sat in front of each other, flittering through the glossed print-outs to review one last time before they practiced.

"Okay, ready?" he asked, moving his binder to make more room for Marinette. She pushed hers against his so that it occupied an equal amount of table space.

"Yeah, and sorry in advance if I screw up," she apologized, scrunching up her shoulders to her ears. A pretty shade of red flooded to her cheeks as she timidly hid her neck between her shoulders.

Adrien grinned, raising his hands and her following suit. They nodded at each other and counted off, keeping their eyes up and only glancing down when needed.

They were doing fine for the most part, but Marinette always forgot the ritardandos without the music. She saw her arms move too fast compared to his and felt conscious about her abilities. She lowered her hands and slumped forward, staring down at the pages while groaning uncharacteristically.

Adrien stopped, tongue tied and unsure. He didn't know how to comfort her! She looked so beat and defeated, he just had to make her feel better. So without thinking, he blurted the first idea that came to mind.

"Play mirror with me."

Marinette lifted her head and stared at him. "Excuse me?" she asked kindly. "Sorry, I just couldn't hear—"

"Play the mirror game with me," he repeated with a friendly smile. "You know, we move our hands in sync and follow each other. This way I can help you with the tempo changes," he said, his confidence slowly draining as he explained this. The weird way she was staring at him made his insides fall apart.

 _That was a stupid idea. Now she thinks you're weird. Great._

Marinette's cheeks were warming up at the idea of almost holding Adrien's hands. She nodded rapidly, stammering, "S-sure. That'd be awesome. I really appreciate it."

With one last glance at the sheet and _fuck it_ echoing through their brains, they placed their hands in front of each other, blushing but beginning. Their fingers and palms brushed against each other as they synchronized their movements, Marinette following Adrien whenever he slowed down.

Lightning seemed to zap her whenever they made contact, sending shivers throughout her body and making her toes twitch. Her face warmed up beautifully, her insides squirming pleasantly when they accidentally locked eyes. She immediately averted eyes while he took his time to look away.

Butterflies were in his stomach when he saw the concentration in her eyes, so he bit his lip, biting back the urge to say something, anything, to have that focus on _him_ alone. Her eyes were set above him, but his were on hers, memorizing every shade of blue of her eyes. And whenever they caught each other staring, he would smile and keep staring as she became flustered.

They finished and cut off, moving their hands like they were tightening a shoelace. Then a heart-stopping smile widened on her cheeks.

"Well done, Mari." He gave her a wink, smiling when she raised her brows.

"Thanks. You weren't so bad yourself," she said, lightly punching him on the shoulder.

They laughed like they had been friends for years and moved on to the next two songs. ("Even if you're not conducting my songs, it's good to know the tempos," she argued.)

:..:

It was almost time, and the crew except Mari were—like before—waiting outside. On the last minute, she asked her mom to bake some macaroons and changed her clothes, deciding to present herself properly instead of something so casual.

And as usual, Adrien fantasized about her, recalling the way her lips tightened when she slowed down her conducting and how she pulled her hair into a sloppy bun when she was on the verge of crying in frustration as they criticized each other's conducting.

The edge of Adrien's binder was brought up to his lips, covering half of his face so that whenever he blushed, it wouldn't be that noticeable. Unfortunately, being alone with both Alya and Nino changed that; they saw right through him.

"You like her . . . because of her confidence?" Nino queried, appearing suddenly.

Alya glared at him, waiting for the right response. "If you only like her because of _that_ , you can't—"

"Everything about her is _admirable_. But I like her sassy, over-confident side the most." A grin popped up. "I want to see her like that everyday. It's adorable and funny."

Nino slapped an arm around his shoulder and sighed. "You've got it bad, bro, but that's a'ight. Ally n' I will getcha together, right?"

"You bet!" she aggressively answered, a smirk of her own curling on her lips.

Marinette jumped out the front door, a brown bag in one hand and her music in the other. Her hair was still in its bun, but now she was dressed in something more formal.

"Alright!" she yelled, breathing in fresh air. "Let's get moving." She linked arms with Alya and started sprinting.

"Woah! S-slow down Mari! We have ten minutes!"

Marinette's laugh echoed through the quiet, early streets of Paris.

"No way! If you're early, you're on time; if you're on time, you're late; and if you're late, you're _dead_!" She looked over her shoulder to see Nino and Adrien still planted on the ground. "Hurry up, slowpokes, or else you're all sore losers!"

She chuckled into the air when Adrien ran, and in a hurry, she dumped her things in Alya's arms, Adrien doing the same to Nino. She quickened her pace, encouraging him to catch up.

Adrien ran after, feeling his muscles come to life as he left Nino in the dust, easily catching up to Marinette, but when he was about to surpass her, she shot him a wink and went faster.

"Tired?" she shouted to him after a moment of semi-silence. The only sound was the heavy pounding of their sneakers.

He was right behind her, huffing as much as her. "Nope. What about you? You sound a bit winded there." They were neck-to-neck, glaring at each other.

"No even a bit." She grinned at him, blocking his path with her body.

 _Great_ , he thought, _now I have_ full _view of her legs_.

"That's foul-play, My Lady," he said, swerving around her.

She looked on either side of her, scouting for Adrien. Once she saw him on her left, she jumped in front of him, missing as he went right. She snorted. "Where'd you get _that_ name?"

"Oh you know," he said over his breathing, "when you decided to grace me with your butt on my back. If I recall correctly, you were quite the queen."

She laughed, relishing the runner's high. "That was payback, Peasant," she spat with a wide smile that showed her teeth. "Now bow to your queen, kind sir, and _back off_!" She shoved him to the right, careful not to send him flying into people or buildings, but it was enough to get him unstable on his feet.

However, he was back on her tail in a matter of seconds, chuckling.

"Oh, are you kidding me?" she playfully whined. "What _are_ you? A _cheetah_?"

"They call me a cat for a reason."

"Never heard anyone call you a cat," she mumbled, but he heard that.

"Only when I'm working out," he answered, snickering when he saw her baffled expression. "Careful, My Lady, you don't want to crash into—"

In the nick of time, she jumped out of the way of a lamp post, smirking over her shoulder. "You were saying?"

Then she ran into the edge of the school gate, her mouth forming an _o_ as her hip made sudden contact with metal. Her running became disoriented, and it wasn't long before she fell to the ground, laughing and tearing up at the same time.

"Marinette!" he shouted, appearing at her side almost immediately. She was on her back, hands clutching her side as her chest started to heave from their running and her hurt. "Mari, you okay?!"

She smiled at him nonetheless, a mischievous glint flashing in her glossy eyes. "I win."

His worried expression dissolved as he deadpanned, "You're kidding me, right?"

She shook her head with an innocent smile. Adrien ran a hand through his wind-blown hair, groaning with closed eyes. She took the opportunity to wipe away the tears before he could point them out and worry.

"You ran into a metal gate, and you're still focused on winning?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm a very competitive person. I can't help it. Now help me up." She wiggled her fingers.

He sighed, reaching out a hand and curling his fingers over the back of her hand. Her face flushed as he pulled her up.

"T-thanks," she shyly responded, panic racing through her veins as she noticed it was just the two of them. Without Alya or Nino, she was terribly shy, and it only skyrocketed when she was alone with Adrien. Adrien _Agreste_. The _love_ of her _life_.

"Where is everybody?" she heard him ask. She lifted her head, seeing the deserted school grounds except for a few custodians who were trying to shoo them off the property.

She reached into her pocket, unlocked her phone, and stared down at the text that was sent before the two took off running.

 **From: best clarinet bud**  
 **To: 1st clairenette**  
There was an email sent before /you/ left.  
"due to the absence of director Theo Barbeau, auditions for drum major will be pushed to this afternoon at five"  
mari, u got thay

"Did you get a text from Nino?" she asked absentmindedly.

"Yeah." Adrien, too, was looking down at his device.

"So basically we're early. Like, really really early."

"Yup." He nodded, sighing.

Silence.

"Race you back to the bakery!" Marinette shouted, bolting off again. Despite her bruised hip, she was running as fast as before.

"My Lady, that's cheating!"

"Come and get me, you cat!"

"My pleasure," he said to himself, sprinting after her.

* * *

 **A/N:** Asians usually find it easier to mix things with chopsticks :\

See you all later o3o


	3. Day 1

**A/N:** Bakery scene based off of art on tumlbr, but someone told me it was _shishitsunari_? Idk, but I give all credit to her for inspiring me :3

Also, I altered the songwriters of the songs. It's funny, and I dare you to try to figure it out (it's soooo easy XD)

* * *

The four friends reunited at the bakery, Nino and Alya staring at them with flat expressions while Marinette and Adrien struggled to explain over their sheepish laughs.

"We were just really caught up in running, okay?" Marinette said, following Alya down another road.

"It's called runner's high for a reason," Adrien muttered to Nino, who was shaking his head.

"You wasted ten minutes of our lives," Alya said, stopping and turning around to point a disciplinary finger at the two runners, "so now we're all gonna spend the whole day with each other now that auditions are cancelled."

The tenor saxophone player rose a hesitant hand, fearing Alya's death glare. "I'll have to ask my father first," he said. "According to him, I've been spending too much time with friends and that I haven't been focusing on my studies as much."

"I already called," she said, lifting up her phone.

"You're lying. He never answers his phone calls, not even from me," he said, incredulously.

"Nope. Well"—she pursed her lips in thought—"more like, _I talked to Nathalie_ for you."

Adrien stared at her, still doubting the ombre-haired teen.

"Alya," Marinette complained, "I can't just take off whenever. My mom particularly is strict about hanging out and unplanned events."

"Then why did she accept our sudden meetup?" Nino asked. Marinette flushed. "Well?" He urged her by lightly pushing on her shoulder.

"Because Adrien came," she mumbled, feeling her face warm up when the blond looked at her with surprise.

Marinette's mother had a soft spot for him? Someone actually changed their morals for a single day just because he was present? He felt bubbly inside, warm and soft and everything lovely. He felt so . . . important and loved. No one shifted their schedules or changed their personalities because of him; he was only familiar with declines to unexpected events and denying friends because of a private saxophone lesson.

A goofy, silly smile curled on his lips.

 _I'll make sure to stop by every week_ , he thought, feeling giddy.

Alya began teasing her. She rubbed shoulders against the half-Chinese, prompting, "Oh? Hmm? Is there something that I want to know?"

Marinette scoffed, pushing her away with her two arms before turning around to the direction of her home. "No. Now if you'll excuse me," she said, slipping through the group, "I have to go help out in the bakery."

The three of them watched her disappear in the growing crowds of Parisians. They looked at each other.

"We're not going after her?" Adrien asked.

"Nah, we are," Alya replied immediately. "We're not gonna hang out in my place today. We'll help out in the bakery! All four of us crammed into the kitchen! Oh, we'll grow closer as a family!" The girl flung her arms around their shoulders and crushed them against her.

:..:

"How did I get myself in this situation?" Marinette sighed to herself, mashing cookie dough and mixing cake mix with her gloved fingers. She heard the racket behind her but she did her best to ignore it.

Tom and Sabine agreed to let the four of them stay in one corner of the large kitchen to make cookies and cakes. Marinette would make the ones for the bakery while Alya, Nino, and Adrien had fun creating their own, some cookies badly molded into a horse and others as giant as a pizza pie. ("Nino, you can't make a cookie that big. You're gonna waste electricity _and_ dough," she groaned.) The cakes were difficulty level two, but the teens had yet to pass level one: the cookie state.

Their tiny corner was covered in sprinkles and chocolate chips in less than five minutes. The baker's daughter's corner, however, was as clean as the other parts of the kitchen, as she was already familiar with the tools and ingredients. With two bowls, a cake mold, and a cookie tray crammed in one corner, it was kempt and tidy.

But Nino, Alya, and Adrien's corner . . .

"You can't put that many sprinkles on a cookie, Nino!" she heard Alya scold.

"Watch me!" The sound of sprinkles falling all over the metal countertops followed after. "See?"

Marinette bit hard into her lip, thinking, _It's okay. They're having fun; don't spoil it_.

She was carefully rolling some dough between her hands when someone smashed into her, clapping her hands together. And as a result, the tiny ball flattened and glued her hands together momentarily.

She turned around, eyes flashing dangerously at the one and only Adrien Agreste, who was sheepishly smiling at her with his white face. Flour was caked over every inch of his face, and only his lips and very green eyes weren't covered.

"Eheheh, sorry, Mari," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

He had purposefully bumped into her, trying to get her to laugh and include her in the fun. He thought that she was taking things too seriously, seeing her alone in her unbothered state. She was quiet ever since the three had shown up, keeping focus on her own work while ignoring the squeals from Alya, Adrien's laughter, and the spurts of anger from Nino.

"You asked for it," Marinette said, scooping a handful of cookie dough and smashing it against his forehead. He yelped, chuckling as he was knocked backwards into Alya.

"What the hell?!" Alya screeched, turning around. "You just messed up my cookie!" On the counter was the poor uncooked victim, three finger holes marking its lightly sprinkled and flawless exterior. But when she saw Adrien turn around to face her, she started laughing at the sight of a lump of dough on his head.

"Oh my God, Nino, look at—" She was eagerly nudging Nino's shoulder, her flour hands leaving marks as she shook him hard.

"Hey!" he shouted, his hand slipping into the mixing bowl of raw eggs. He saw Alya's face mid-laugh and growled, "Payback."

He cupped some formed yolk into his palm and slapped it across Alya's cheek. The egg whites splattered over the rims of her glasses, eyes unharmed.

Alya's grin dropped. "You are _so_ getting it," she said in a deep voice.

Alya took a raw egg from a carton and rammed it into his eye, the liquid seeping around his glasses and on his eyelid. Adrien and Marinette clutched onto each other when the two started shoving cracked shells and yolks at each other.

Tom and Sabine watched in the distance, the mother doing her best not to scold the children for wasting food and ruining the kitchen.

"Just relax, we can ask Fu to give us more eggs." Tom rubbed his wife's shoulders and steered her away from the back kitchen where the four teenagers were making a mess.

Nino dodged an incoming egg. It cracked against Marinette's neck, yet Alya had no signs of regret or remorse. She was only cackling loudly, pointing and clutching her stomach.

Marinette coughed, her bulging eyes showing she wasn't expecting the hit. She dramatically fell and yelled, "I've been hit!" Cough, cough. "S-someone," she wheezed, "tell my story."

"No!" Adrien cried, falling onto his knees and pounding against the tile floors with his flour-covered fingers. "You can't leave me here!"

Alya slapped a sticky hand on the back of Adrien's neck; he shot up, howling and moving awkwardly to get her hand off. "It's time to let go, Son," she said solemnly before shoveling a handful of flour from Marinette's unmixed cake batter into his hair.

Adrien gasped, jaw dropping as he felt the tiny flakes of white powder settle in his hair. "You are _so_ paying."

He let out a growl and jumped over Marinette, who was crawling away to steal the container of sprinkles as her weapon. He was clutching a heavy bowl of cookie dough and tore off a chunk. Then, he threw two blobs at the back of Nino's head and into Alya's long hair.

Nino and Alya gasped when Marinette jumped over them and slammed a handful of rainbow bits down their shirts. The sprinkles stuck to the egg liquids, feeling gritty under their shirts.

"Haha!" she tauntingly laughed, leaning her elbow on Adrien's shoulder, but because he was taller than her, she had to reach up. "Eat _that_ ," she sneered, pounding fists with Adrien.

That was when everything caught up to her. Her magnificent smile slowly dropped as she took in her surroundings.

Egg shells and liquids were splattered across every appliance and surface she looked at. Flour lightly powdered every shelf, but the floor was blanketed in pure white. Sprinkles peppered all surfaces and caked skin that was visible. Cookie dough was dotted onto the walls and on the counters. And luckily, Marinette's cake batter was mostly unharmed, but a few sprinkles lightly decorated the mix.

Overall, it looked like a murder took place. A murder of an uncooked gingerbread's family and their children.

She fell onto her knees, looking defeated.

"Oh my God."

:..:

The kitchen was sparkling (thanks to Alya, Nino, and Adrien's help), auditions were over, it was almost nine, and to say Marinette was exhausted was an understatement. She flopped on her chair, face down and arms serving as her pillow. The throw pillow was on the floor, but she was too lazy to pick it up.

Her phone vibrated against the floor, making her moan as she blindly searched.

 **From: Unknown number  
To: 1st clairenette  
** Hi! It's Adrien. Nino told me to text you.  
We're having a hangout on the last day of band camp. Do u think u could make it?

Marinette was too tired to react to the fact that _she had Adrien's phone number!_ She forced herself up into a sitting position to glance at her large, projector screen-size calendar. Nothing big and occupying was planned. As usual. Only a few summer hangouts with the Woos.

 **From: 1st clairenette  
To: golden child  
** hey adrein  
ya i can make it. did ninio tell u the time?

 **From: golden child  
To: 1st clairenette  
** its easier to makea group chat, hold on

 **From: golden child  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, sexamaphone bro  
** there.

 **From: best clarinet bud  
To: 1st clairenette, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** why

Marinette locked her phone and closed her eyes, snuggling into her chair and letting everything catch up to her. She instantly became tired from today's events, but the buzzing of new text messages kept her awake and alert.

Grumbling incoherent words, she let her slight anger wash over her as she rapidly typed, eyes barely registering the words.

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, golden child  
** u think u cuold maek it at 10?

 **From: best clarinet bud  
To: 1st clairenette, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** ya

 **From: golden child  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, sexamaphone bro  
** I'll have to miss sax practice , but ye i think i can

 **From: best clarinet bud  
To: 1st clairenette, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** mari ?  
MARI, CLAIRE IS GONNA DIE

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, sexamaphone bro  
** I dont think shes responding

Marinette felt a vein throb painfully on her forehead.

 **From: 1st clairenette  
To: best clarinet bud, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** U all need to shut up, I'm trying to slepe  
bye you annoying shits

 **From: sexamaphone bro  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, golden child  
** woah chill

Marinette threw her phone onto the floor and curled into herself.

:..:

Adrien let out a full laugh, falling onto his bed and keeping his phone above his face. He reread the words, over and over again, trying to picture Marinette saying those words at his face.

 **From: 1st clairenette  
To: best clarinet bud, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** U all need to shut up, I'm trying to slepe  
bye you annoying shits

Who knew Marinette could have that kind of side? Well, at least he unlocked two of her many personalities.

"Shy and sassy, huh?" he mumbled, hands lightly grasping the phone. "What else are you hiding, Mari?"

:..:

Adrien felt his pillow vibrate against his cheek as messages filled his inbox. He scrubbed his face with the heel of his hand and brushed the hair out of his eyes, pulling out the phone from under the pillow.

 **From: 1st clairenette  
To: best clarinet bud, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** WAKE UP AKE UO WAKE UPL!'!  
today's band camp !'!,,!

He grinned sleepily, momentarily burying his face deeper in his pillow before he climbed out of bed with a grunt, pulling out a shirt corresponding to the assigned colors.

It was part of band camp rules that each section had to have a color so that the newbies had an easier time finding their group. This year, the saxophones upheld their streak of green, so Adrien pulled on a lime-green shirt with cat eyes imprinted on it. Clarinets were red, trumpets blue, low brass gray, percussion purple, flutes white, and color guard was yellow.

Adrien sat at the dining table, fiddling with his bland peas as he opened up the texts.

 **From: golden child  
To: 1st clairenette, best clarinet bud, sexamaphone bro  
** Someone's excited

 **From: best clarinet bud  
To: 1st clairenette, golden child, sexamaphone bro  
** Obvi, we get to hang out all together again.  
moms been separated from her children for a few weeks i miss yall

Nathalie came in, high heels clicking and tablet clutched to her chest. She was informing him about his private lessons that were crammed between 4PM and 6PM.

"No," he said, eyes trained on his phone, "I'm skipping today because I get home at four from band camp. I have to go back at six, too."

"But Adrien," Nathalie protested, approaching him with her steel face, "your father—"

"I'm sorry, Nathalie, I really am," he interrupted, walking towards the exit, "but I can't have any private lessons today. I'll be dead by the end of the day. I'm _skipping_." He jumped into his shoes and kicked the tip against the tiles.

"Adrien, you cannot abandon your studies," she said, heading towards him to give him her infamous glare that matched his father's.

"Yeah I can," he said in an even voice even though his heart pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. "I'm gonna skip lessons today. Oh, and cancel for the rest of the week, too. Nino and I are gonna hang out on the last day of band camp."

He closed the front door with his sax in his grip, exhaling deeply as he ran down the sidewalk towards the small park beside the bakery. He had to escape his "golden child" duties for just one week, so when he arrived at the park and saw a huge mob of people in a flurry of colors, all remnants of his busy life were forgotten.

He focused on his friends in the distance, centered in front of him.

"Adrien!"

Marinette waved him over, a brilliant grin on her face as she clung to Alya's arm. He reflected it, snickering when he saw her shirt. The words _Thing 1_ were typed across her bosom, and he guessed that Alya had _Thing 2_.

She pointed to the fence bordering the park, mouthing something to him, but when he leaned his head in confusion, she handed her clarinet to Alya (who, like he guessed, wore _Thing 2_ ), detached herself from her, and ran to him.

"We put our instrument cases by the fence, then you get to do whatever for a few more minutes. Remember last year?" she explained, running back to the group after he nodded.

He joined the trio, his tenor dangling from his neck. "Adrien, I haven't seen you in a while," Nino said, shaking hands and bumping shoulders with him. The blond laughed.

"Yeah. All week I was playing with Father's band. It was pretty cool," he said, rubbing the hair on the back of his neck.

"Hmm, 's that so?" Alya hummed, flipping through her phone.

"Alya, that's rude. Look at people in the eyes when you talk to them," Marinette scolded, slapping a hand over the screen. "Why are you always on your phone?" she asked, trying to catch her eyes.

Alya screeched, turning away to tear the ravenette's hand from her device. "Shh, shh, shut up," she murmured, "I'm reading this really heated debate on tumblr."

Nino peeked over her shoulder. "What's it about?"

"Theft and reposting people's art," she answered.

"Okay!" Marinette declared, grabbing the phone from Alya's grasp and dropping it into Nino's sax. Alya gasped, then glared at her. She shrugged, unbothered. "It's time to bond as friends. Forget technology! We have each other!" At this, she half-hugged a reluctant Alya and a blank-faced Adrien. She smiled cheekily.

The (re)blogger of tumblr ducked under Marinette's arms, leaving her hanging onto Adrien, who tried to act subtle when she spluttered for Alya to come back after dropping her arm.

"My phone will overheat and die if I leave it in there," Alya said, pointing to the bell of the bari.

She reached into Nino's instrument, grabbing his shoulder and hissing at him to remain still, but Marinette dragged her away. She and Adrien kept swiping at her hands whenever she reached into it.

"Alya," Adrien said in a warning tone.

"Let me just get it and then I'll throw it in my case," she sighed, making Nino flip the bari upside down, ignoring his snaps of being careful. It plopped onto the thick, green grass. Then she threw it onto her case, shrugging nonchalantly when it fell into a flower bed.

She was about to mull over the loss of her technology before the famous "Band, Ten'hut!" drew their attention. Immediately, marchers reacted like a dog being told to sit, holding up their instruments parallel to their body and keeping their bad straight. The color guard connected their heels in a 45 degree angle and balled their fists by their hips, looking forward.

The new members awkwardly followed, which was endearing to Marinette. She smiled, risking the consequences when she relaxed her body and assisted an underclassman.

"There you go," she whispered before surreptitiously going back to attention. Even with her eyes and body forward, she heard the taciturn girl mumble a _thank you_ from behind her. (Not to mention, she also felt Adrien's eyes bore into the back of her head. She tried not to fall over.)

M Theo Barbeau, M Armand D'Argencourt, Mme Mendeleiev, and Mlle Bustier were all lined up in the front of the park. Armand had his hands clapped together, for he was the one who just gave the command in a clipped, loud voice.

His eyes scanned over the crowd, feeling quite proud of the quantity of members. "Get in your groups. Then make a big circle after you've introduced yourselves to your sections," he barked, turning around and leaving the section leaders in command of the subunits.

"Bye guys," Marinette and Alya said to Nino and Adrien, forming a group with the other clarinet players. The one who stood in the middle, though, was a senior named Tikki.

She had blue eyes just like Marinette and the richest, blackest hair they had ever seen. (Alya whispered, "You sure she ain't your cousin or something?") She was tan and tall, a welcoming grin on her lips.

"Hi everyone. I'm a senior. My name is Tikki!" she chirped at the newcomers. "Good to see you, Marinette, Alya, Ali." She nodded in acknowledgement. Then she turned to the lowerclassmen. "And what are your names?"

After they all recited their names, Tikki nodded and explained all the rules, like staying in a single line—one behind the other—as they do warm-ups and basics. She answered all questions thrown at her, relieved some nerves of the new marchers, and cheered whenever someone got psyched.

Alya nudged Marinette, jerking her chin towards the saxes, whispering, "Plagg didn't changed, it seems."

They laughed, seeing Nino and Adrien's frustration when Plagg got comfortable and yawned.

"I'm Plagg. Senior. The blond kid and the guy with the hat will explain everything to you," he drawled, sighing as he scratched his hair.

Adrien glared at him. "Plagg, stop that. You're giving off the wrong vibes."

"Not cool, dude. You're the section leader; _you_ have to teach them everything."

Plagg snorted, staring at the marchers. "You stand in a line and follow orders. That's it."

Adrien groaned, throwing his head back.

:..:

All high school students were sitting in a large circle, awaiting Armand's next orders. The director was standing in the middle.

"We're gonna introduce ourselves to everybody. Say your name, what year you're going in, the instrument you play, and your favorite song. Tikki, you start." With that, the head director climbed over someone and watched from the outside.

The girl grinned. "Hi, my name is Tikki. I'm a senior and the section leader of the clarinets." She paused, placing a finger on her lips. "Um, my favorite song is Counting Stars by Two Rebellions."

"I'm Plagg, Tikki's boyfriend, ya hear? She's taken." Tikki elbowed him hard while maintaining her bright smile. "I'm also a senior and the section leader of the saxes. I like the band Pots and Pans." Leaning into the clarinet player and slinging an arm around her, he said in a much quieter voice, " _Ow_."

"Hi, um, my name is Amelia. I'm going to be a sophomore this year, and I'm a percussionist. I like Sorry by PB." She patted the knee of a tanner person who looked like a native with his wavy brown hair and his olive-toned skin.

"I'm Julian, a junior, and I play the trumpet. Hello by Acer." Everyone noticed how Amelia and Julian were sitting with their shoulders connected, Julian subtly trying to touch her in some sort of way, whether it be leaning in or keeping a hand on her outer thigh.

"My name is Mylene. Mylene Haprele. I'm a junior now and I play the piccolo. I like The Piano Man by Bobby Noel." The short girl with dreadlocks bounced in her spot, beaming excitedly. Mylene hugged Ivan's forearm, looking up for him as he spoke.

"Ivan. Junior. Sousaphone. Comatose by Pots and Pans."

Silence dawned on them as they waited for the next person to speak. Armand coughed his throat. "Juleka, you're up," he said in his strict voice. She flinched, grinning at Rose's attempts to cheer her up with her blinding smile and quiet cheers.

"Juleka. Going to be a junior. I play the flute. Umm," her confidence was dwindling as she spoke quieter, "My favorite song is Worn by Ninth Road South."

Rose patted her shoulder, speaking as soon as she finished in a chipper voice. "I'm Rose! Like Jules here, I'm gonna be a junior. I play the flute, and my favorite song is Sugar by Purple 4." She nudged the boy next to her.

"I am Jean Duparc, please call me Ali." Habitually, he nodded his head in respect as a greeting. "I'm also a junior and I play the clarinet. I like to listen to classical music."

"Then what's your favorite?" Rose asked.

Ali grinned, happy that someone showed interest in his style of music. "Oh," he said in a light tone, "my favorite is Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 1 by Fronte."

"Noice," Alya said, nodding her head. Then she harshly nudged Nino when he was dozing off and held up the line. "Nino, your turn," she hissed.

He jolted awake. "Oh! Okay, um, hi, my name is Nino, the one and only bari sax player." He got up to his feet and bowed dramatically, people applauding him with grins while Ali looked insulted. "I'm a junior, and I mostly like hip-hop songs. My favorite is Where Ya At by Past."

Alya tugged him back on his butt while Adrien began. "I'm Adrien." Someone whooped, which made him smile. "I play the tenor and gonna be a junior. My favorite song is Unravel by FatiiGue."

Nino face-palmed.

"What?" Alya whispered.

"That's his weeb music," he said, rubbing his temple in disappointment. Nino glared at Adrien over Alya's shoulders; the blond gave an unapologetic smile.

"Hi, I'm Marinette—"

"Yeah, Mari!" someone shouted. She flinched away, rubbing her ears.

"—yes, hi Michael. I can hear you loud and clear. No need to scream," she said to the boy next to her, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I'm a junior and I play the clarinet. My favorite song is Viva la Vida by Hotwork."

Then the boy began, addressing the crowd with a smile. "I'm Michael Woo, from South Korea. I'm a trombone player and a senior. I mostly listen to instrumentals."

"Favorite?" Marinette prompted with a smirk, elbowing him knowingly.

"Never Forget from the Halo series by Luther O'Donald and Martin Salvatori," he said, ruffling her hair.

She swatted at his hand, muttering, "Stop treating me like a kid."

Michael only grinned wider. "Maybe if you'll stop acting like one, Little Sissy."

"Next!" Armand shouted over them, cutting their argument to a stop.

"Le Chien Kim; don't bother trying to pronounce my last name. I'm a junior and section leader of the low brass section. I'm a trombone player." His cheeks suddenly warming up. "My favorite song—"

Marinette leaned into Adrien, whispering behind her hand, "Watch it be a Korean song."

"—is Lion Heart by Ladies' Era."

Marinette burst out laughing, covering her hand over her nose as she snorted. Kim glared at her. She didn't stop or make any signs of stopping.

"Marinette," Theo warned. She blushed and subsided into giggles.

Max took over. "I'm Max. I'm a trumpet player and a junior. My favorite song is SAVE the World from Abovestory."

Many gamers within the circle nodded, approving of him.

"I'm Chloe Bourgeois, which makes me the daughter of the mayor, for your information," she said, flipping her high ponytail over her shoulder. Her large shades took up half of her face. "I'm a junior. I'm in the color guard, and I _love_ Stay With Me by Max Mason."

"Ooh, good choice, Chlo," Aurore said. Chloe shot her a smirk. "I'm Aurore Beaureal, also in the color guard. I'm a sophomore, and my absolute _favorite_ song is Uptown Funk by Bruno Pluto. You all should listen to it."

"My name is Sabrina Raincomprix," she said with a gentle and welcoming smile. "I'm a junior and in the color guard. I also like Bruno Pluto. My favorite song is Grenade."

Nooroo ran a hand through his purple-dyed hair sitting atop his head after Sabrina finished. "I'm Nooroo. Unfortunately I'm the captain of the color guard, which makes me stuck with these brats." He pointed his thumb at Chloe and Aurore. "I'm a senior, and my favorite song is How to Save a Life by The Loose Stitches."

He nudged his younger cousin, who looked up with scared eyes. The younger boy mumbled something.

"Louder," encouraged Nooroo with a soft smile.

"I-I'm Pierre!" he announced, the speed of his twiddling fingers increasing. "I-I'm a freshman. Ummm, I'm also in the color guard."

"That's it," Nooroo mumbled, giving him a grin. "You got it."

"I try to listen to s-screamo, but it hurts my feelings," he said, emitting coos from Marinette. "I end up listening to classical music."

"So cute!" Alya squealed. "What's your favorite?"

"Waltz in E Minor by Chopin."

Marinette whisper-screamed, her knees spasming. But Adrien thought she was having a seizure. So he leaned his head towards her, peering up at her as she faced down, hands over her cheeks. His hair tickled the sides of her thighs.

"Marinette? What's wrong?"

"He's too cute," she said, fighting for a breath as she lifted her face. She didn't register their close proximity; her eyes were on Pierre. "Aw, I just want to cuddle with him," she added in baby-talk, puckering her lips and pretending to give Pierre kisses. Adrien backed up, Faux Grin™ on his face.

Michael gave her a weird look, telling her to _shut up so I can hear Iyonna_.

The clarinet player calmed down, nostrils flaring and breathing still labored but mouth remaining shut.

"I'm Iyonna, and I play the alto sax. My favorite song is Adore U by THIRTEEN. Did I forget anything?" The ginger smiled.

"Yes," Mlle Bustier replied, "what year you are going to be."

"Oh!" she said, quickly recovering from her oblivious state. "I'm gonna be a sophomore!"

Mlle Bustier smiled.

"I'm Nathanael," the redhead said, keeping his eyes on the grass. He tugged at the blades, saying, "I'm a junior and play the flute. My favorite song is You by Corrin Stjernburg."

A gorgeously tanned girl stood up, making sure to stoop over so her loose white shirt sagged. She eyed Adrien as she said slowly, "I'm Lila Rossi. I'm a sophomore and the leader of the flutes. My favorite song is I Love You by April Ravine."

Lila shot a wink at the tenor sax player, and Marinette did not fail to notice it. Adrien, on the other hand, felt a bit disgusted. He silently-begged for Marinette, Alya, even _Nino_ to do something.

The half-Asian snarled silently, confidently reaching a hand out and grabbing Adrien's fingers. He got her message, twining them immediately. But Lila wasn't affected as she sat down, keeping her green irises on him.

No one noticed the episode, so an energetic but small boy bolted to his feet, saying loudly, "The name's Prewitt. I'm a freshman, a trumpet player, and the best song in the whole wide world is Demons by Realistic Lizards."

Alya shrugged her shoulder. "Meh, he's cute, too."

Marinette heard her and leaned forward, catching her eye. "Pierre is cuter." She stuck out her tongue at her.

Nino rolled his eyes. "You all are so rude and disrespectful."

"Yeah, we know," Alya said blatantly.

"I'm Manon! I'm Marinette's ultimate best friend, and no one can beat that!" she declared, making Alya's eyebrow twitch. "I'm a freshman, and I play the drums. My favorite song is Viva la Vida!"

Alya growled, hissing to Marinette. "Girl, you gotta speak to her. _I'm_ your best friend! _And_ she chose the _same exact song as you_! Control that demon!" Nino and Adrien leaned back, careful to get out of the way of an angry Alya.

Marinette pretended to think, placing a hand on her lips and leaning her head to the left and right. "Hmm, I dunno. She's kinda adorable."

"Oh you are _so_ gonna get it later." Alya backed up, shaking her head with a crazy grin. She pointed to her eyes, then stabbed the two fingers at Marinette, saying _I'm watching you_. Marinette chose to act like she had never seen it.

"I'm Wayzz. It's spelled funny, but whatever," a boy with brown hair and large glasses said. "I'm the section leader of the percussion. I'm a sophomore. I don't really have a favorite song."

"Oh come on!" Chloe yelled, making everyone turn to her. She ignored the looks and said, "You _have_ to have a favorite song. It's part of the rules."

"Uhh, fine," he replied, a bit surprised but unafraid of Chloe's outburst. "I guess I like Pots and Pans," he concluded, leaning his chin on his hand.

Then a boy with purple-tinted hair spoke up. "Takkar. Also a sophomore and a drummer. I like Europe's Skies by Alex Arbok."

No one questioned him as they moved on. All stares landed on—

Alix stood up and kept her lips twisted in a smirk. " _I'm_ Alix, _the_ section leader of the amazing _trumpets_." With every accentuated word, she leaned forward and pointed a finger at Kim, making him glare harder at her. "I'm a junior, and I adore the song Get Me Out by Bountiful Problems."

"Edgy," Kim snarked.

"Hey," she barked, crossing her legs as she sat back down, "you're the one obsessed with Korean girls dancing with stick-thin legs."

Kim rolled his eyes, keeping his lips sealed.

"I'm Kimiko from Japan. I'm a senior. I play the sousaphone—"

"Yeah, _low brass_!" an obvious voice—Kim—shouted. Alix grumbled, a stare fixated on him. He laughed at her with his tongue flopping out and a smug glint twinkling in his eyes.

"—and my favorite song is Best Friend by M Squared."

A blond girl spoke up. "I'm Solana, and no, I'm not her twin. I'm also a senior, and I play the alto sax with Yumiko. I like Korean songs." She pointed a finger at Kim and nodded in understanding. Kim tried to bite back a wide smile, but Alix's eyes were on him, so he had to remain straight-faced. "My favorite is Cheer Up by Once."

The last person to speak in the circle said, "I'm Kimiko's twin, Yumiko. I play the alto sax. I'm a senior and I love Just Right by Give6."

Everyone started to clap and stand up, relieved that their time sitting and conversing with each other was over. Adrien and Marinette were still holding hands, but they made no move to part from each other. They stood side-by-side, the tenor player looking at the directors for further instructions and the baker glaring at Lila.

"Nononono, I _refuse_ to let you have Adrien," Marinette said under her breath, narrowing her eyes as Lili winked and wiggled her fingers at him with a flirty pose. Adrien didn't notice.

"Okay, now that we've introduced everyone, grab your instruments and line up in a block!" Armand said.

And so they did.

(Adrien and Marinette walked hand-in-hand all the way back to their instruments.)

:..:

After sweating through tough weather and four hours of basics under Armand's strict commands, it was finally time for lunch. But before anyone took off, instructions needed to be addressed.

Theo stood on the podium, yelling, "Iyonna, raise your hand. If you're behind Iyonna, wrap around the other side." A huge portion of the large blob slowly scooted over to make more space. "Thanks." Now directing the whole band, he announced, "You'll have lunch with whomever you want, but it has to include at least one different instrument. In addition," he said in a louder voice, "those who tried out for drum majors, stay. Otherwise, you're all dismissed."

The crowd dissipated in seconds due to the eagerness of the younger marchers, who dropped off their instruments and bolted to a shady spot with lunches in arms. Small groups formed in patches, loud laughter echoing.

Kim, Alix, Adrien, and Marinette waited by the legs of the elevated stage, the boys greeting each other with shoulder bumps and the girls getting into an animated talk about their summer.

"Alix, I saw you on the news!" Marinette squealed.

Alix's face lightened as she jumped, keeping her trumpet close in her arms. "Really? That's so cool! Man, I've been dying to get on the news for skating." She chuckled, rolling her eyes tiredly. Then she lowered her voice, smiling slyly. "I heard you've been rubbing elbows with Agreste over there."

Marinette blushed, sneaking a look in their direction. Kim was facing down with his trombone bell pressed against Adrien's sax bell. With both openings closed, they tried to play. Nothing came out except for their breathy chuckles. She stared at them blankly.

"Idiots," they muttered, giggling.

"Attention!" Armand said shortly, holding out a paper in his arms. They turned front and wished each other good luck, Adrien moving behind Marinette to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She grinned at him, anxiety shown through her eyes and jittery hands.

"You've all done well, now, so I don't want any negative feelings, alright?"

They tsked, shooting each other knowing smirks. They were already on good terms, so they can jokingly yell and throw tantrums at each other. Except Alix and Kim; those two were enemies.

"Okay, the results are . . ."

They all waited with bated breath.

"Congratulations, M Adrien and Mlle Marinette. You are the drum majors of this year's marching band!" One of Armand's rare grins were on his face as he clapped with his fingertips.

Kim roared with a beat smile, shoving Adrien good-naturedly in the shoulder while Alix blasted her horn in Marinette's ear. The clarinet player giggled, squeaking her clarinet in turn. Kim prodded the blond with his slide whenever Adrien began playing the sexy saxophone song as a joke, Alix scrubbing the top of Marinette's head with her knuckles as she held the new female drum major hostage.

Theo stood to at the base, whispering to Mlle Bustier, "This year's marching band season will be great. I can feel it."

She nodded with her eyes on the four teenagers and a smile on her lips. "I know. If only I could say the same about our color guard."

In the distance, Chloe and Aurore dumped their drinking water on Nooroo and Pierre, in turn getting some lettuce thrown in their hair. They all laughed with and at each other.

Mlle Bustier sighed in disdain, shaking her head in disappointment.

Little did she know, the color guard was one of the most united groups they've had in awhile.

* * *

 **A/N:** Pierre is the peacock kwami. And he's adorable. He's sensitive. He's cute. I love him already.

** Unwanted end note* I just occurred to me that "till" is the gardening term, yet I've been using it as a shorter version of "until." Thanks, sis, for pointing that out to me :P **

Okay, bye now c:


	4. Ray-Bans

Note: Drum majors are the conductors of the band (and they have shoulder problems lmao). Section leaders are just sub leaders. They are the head of each instrument (trumpets, flutes, blah blah).

Idk, I kinda like Chloe as someone misunderstood. It's funny and hilarious, and I portrayed her as myself. (If you see me—short Asian girl with glasses— _run_.)

Also, Nooroo is a punk (make it happen guys.)

We need more guard moments tbh

* * *

Chloe was a basic bitch. Even she would admit that. But Sabrina would describe her as passionate and lonely, always eager to make friends through bullying. That's how they became friends, after all. Wow, she was a bitch.

So when the color guard squad huddled up beside a trash can ("Hey Nooroo, that's you," Chloe said without a muscle twitching), the teasing began. They threw meaningless insults at each other, though most of the time, Chloe and Aurore were behind the trigger with Nooroo and poor Pierre as their targets.

But the captain quickly adapted to her personality, as did sensitive and hesitant Pierre. On the other hand, Aurore was like Chloe's long-lost sister. But in general, Chloe's closest friends (Nooroo, Pierre, Aurore, and Sabrina) learned to accept her while the others were still afraid of getting in her way.

"Ugh, why do we have to sit by a _garbage can_?" Aurore complained, pinching her nose and fanning her face. Her legs were tucked under one side of her body as she made sure to keep her sundress down. She was picking at her sandwich, a frown in place.

"Yeah, Nooroo, get outta here," Chloe said instantly, shoving the boy in the back from behind.

Chloe was still standing, her hands leaning on Nooroo's shoulders and pushing him forward. He tried to shake her off, but she came back to nag him anyway. He gave up soon after, placing his attention back on his lunch and ignoring the lurches forced by Chloe.

"Chloe, you're a bitch," Nooroo commented, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his purple-dyed scruff on the top of his head. He munched into his sandwich, unaware of the fact that Aurore had stood up and was holding a cooler of melted ice with Chloe

Pierre looked between Nooroo and the two girls, debating whether or not to tell him. He shrugged, leaving him be. This was their way of bonding.

The two blondes dumped all the water on Nooroo's head, cackling with their manicured hands clutching their stomachs. And unfortunately for the quiet man guard, he got soaked through, too.

"CHLOE!" Nooroo shrieked, dropping his now-soggy lunch in its plastic bag to slick back his wet hair. He was shivering, water dripping down his chin and seeping into his shorts. He groaned, frowning.

Sabrina was recording, the video shaking since she was stifling her snickering.

"Aww, whatcha gonna do about it?" Chloe taunted with an honest smile pinned on her lips. She was bouncing in anticipation, waiting to get water dumped on her or for—

A slab of turkey and bits lettuce plastered stickily onto her cheeks.

Chloe's snickering paused, a face of disgust showing after the sandwich slipped off her sweaty face. Her sunglasses perched on the crown of her head had fallen onto the grass, the darkened lens covered in mayonnaise.

Aurore squawked when cucumber and mayonnaise splattered on her dress. She drew in a long and very audible gasp as her mouth formed an _o_. Her fingers were fanned out, looking much like the claws of an eagle. She looked down at her dress, then at Nooroo.

"You threw a sandwich at me," Chloe said.

And a bit late, Pierre threw a piece of apple at her, aiming for her face, but it fell into her tank top instead.

"OH MY GOD!" she yelled while laughing, reaching down to withdraw the apple slice. The blond threw it at Nooroo; it landed snuggly in his thick hair.

Soon enough, Sabrina burst out laughing, enjoying the moment. And although no one paid her any attention (except for the other guards, who threw concerned looks in her direction), she didn't care. As long as Chloe was truly happy with other people, Sabrina was fine.

"Ew, don't throw it at me! It touched _you_!" Nooroo said, shaking his head. It flew out and disappeared into the grass.

"Excuse me?" The blond picked up her sunglasses and slid it on after rubbing the mayo on a leaf. "People are _dying_ to obtain my dripping good looks." She flicked her high ponytail out of her face, harrumphing.

"Yeah, sure," Pierre quietly drawled sarcastically.

Sabrine snickered. "You're absolutely beautiful, Chlo," she reassured.

Sabrina's eyes enviously took in her slim, tan legs, her proportionate curves covered by denim shorts and a flowing tank top, and her face, which was often hidden behind layers of makeup on regular school days.

Chloe froze. Her eyes widened and a blush settled on her cheeks. She lifted the glasses, peering at her female friend below the rims. "R-really?"

The small group of friends was staring at her, eyes honest and smiles wide. They nodded.

"Aw, thanks gu—"

"Just kidding, you're ugly," added Nooroo as he threw another piece of turkey at her. She pouted but smiled when the strip of meat stuck to her kneecap. Then she giggled when Pierre shyly pinned carrots and celery into her short pants' pockets.

Unbeknownst to them, Sabrina snapped a shot. She turned her back to the group, admiring it: Chloe was smiling genuinely as Pierre kneeled diagonally in front of her, sneaking the vegetables in her pocket. Nooroo was laughing with his eyes closed, hands mid-slap against his thighs. Aurore was giggling behind her hands, her dress stained with thick sauce of mayo.

She smiled, saving and setting it as the group chat's icon.

:..:

"So? Soo?" Alya drawled, watching as her two friends walked together. She waved and smiled as Kim and Alix went past them, high-fiving Alix and avoiding Kim's. Kim put on a hurt expression, a hand pressed flat against his chest as he mock-sobbed in her direction.

Marinette sat next to Alya, Adrien finding his place between the bluish-haired girl and Nino. She pulled out a plastic container and placed a California roll in her mouth, offering the container to her four friends. Adrien and Nino took one, Alya didn't.

"We actually got it!" she squealed after swallowing, bouncing in her spot. Adrien was grinning next to her, forking some fancy leaves into his mouth.

"Woah! Congrats, dude!" Nino exclaimed, bumping fists with him and high-fiving Marinette.

"Good job, girl! Mommy is so proud of you," she said, hugging her and lightly shoving the new male drum major on his arm.

Adrien half-embraced Marinette and shook her lightly, rubbing his fingers into her bicep. (He could feel the muscles twitch under the fabric and tried to act as if he hadn't felt anything.) "We made it, Mari," he said with a blinding smile.

She blushed and nodded, too pumped to stammer. "I know! We did it!" She gasped when something dawned on her. "Holy cow, we _beat_ Kim and Alix! Those workaholic, competitive _beasts_!"

"Yeah!" He laughed and pulled back. He found it cute when she caught herself instead of saying some other profanity he knew she kept hidden under her sleeve.

"Now we get to see each other every day at school!" she squealed, but when she remembered that he was within hearing range, her face lit up.

"Oh my God," Alya gasped, pulling her fingertips over her lips. "School starts next week," she whimpered, leaning her head against Marinette's shoulder. The new drum major pouted with her, placing her head atop Alya's.

"Dude," Nino said with his mouth full, sounding offended, "you just ruined band camp." He pointed his fork at the two girls, pasta hanging from it.

"Wait, did the schedules come out, yet?" Mari asked, sitting up and pushing Alya back into her own personal bubble.

The ombre-haired teen sulked, narrowed eyes focused on Marinette and Adrien. "If I had my _phone_ , I would be able to check." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin in the air.

"But we have ours," Adrien said, shoveling his device from his back pocket of his shorts, lifting it up. A sadistic smile formed as he said, "I'll check for you."

Marinette chuckled, bumping shoulders against Adrien and Alya's as she also took out her device. Alya made noises of disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she stared at her friends.

Marinette caught her looking.

"You'll catch flies, honey," Marinette cooed, placing an index finger under Alya's chin and closing her mouth. Then she went back on her phone, eyes brightening at something. "Ooh, they _did_ upload our schedules!"

Alya was on the verge of fainting. She suddenly felt dizzy and slumped forward, her forehead touching the grass.

"Al, bugs will get into your hair," Nino warned.

She shot up, a glare fixed on him. "Don't you sass me."

He looked utterly confused. With his brows raised and mouth contorted into a bewildered pout, he sputtered, "W-what? H-how is that—I wasn't even—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" She shook her finger at him, rocking onto her knees to invade his space. "I don't like that attitude of yours, Nin."

"Please don't abuse my name," he whimpered, backing away from her.

To spite him, Alya said his new nickname in that obnoxious, seven-year old voice.

Meanwhile, Adrien and Marinette were leaning into each other, staring at screens and comparing classes.

"Hey, I have Chinese with you," Marinette mumbled, still focused on his schedule. She had to memorize it so that she could find different routes to walk past him in the halls. No, it's not considered stalker-ish. She's just making sure he gets to class safely. Yeah.

"And as usual, we have band together," he said with a grin.

He, too, was peering at hers, eyes skimming over her personal information like her real name (Marinette Huiqing Dupain-Cheng) and her birthdate, which was September 26th. Adrien tried prying his curious eyes from her school picture, but it was just too pretty to be ignored.

Her hair had been let down for the event of picture day. It was curled into ringlets, framing her face and making her painted lips look bigger as she smiled. Her amazing, sparkling eyes were popping out due to the professionally applied mascara and eyeshadow, her eyebrows filled in. He scanned her profile and saw the top of chest, seeing a simple blouse.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she looked up, her face close but her cheeks still pale. A smirk was nestled comfortably on her lips.

"Why don't you tell me something I _don't_ know, Chat?" Her tongue poked out, a wink sending him to heaven.

His eyebrows rose and gave her a challenging look. "Okay, _fine_ , My Lady." He leaned in, attempting to take a closer look at her phone. He heard her breath hitch in her throat. "Aha!" He leaned back swiftly, a finger pointed in the air.

He stared at Marinette, whose cheeks finally tinted. "Well?"

"We have Physics together," he said, snatching her pink-encased phone and held it close to his. "See? See?" He shoved the devices in her face, pushing her back inadvertently.

She steered farther from the technology that was pressed against her face. "Stop, stop," she laughed, "I can't even read it."

He pulled back and watched her brows furrow as her eyes flickered over the text. Then she grinned at him.

"Good job, Kitty." She patted his head. ". . . You never really explained _why_ you're referred to as a cat," she pondered aloud.

"Well," he started, scratching the spot her fingers touched, "when I used to do the obstacle course at the gym, I finished in record time because of my quick reflexes."

"But things aren't be thrown at you in the _jungle gym_ ," she argued with a knowing smirk.

He scoffed, holding up a sassy finger and saying, "First, it's called an _obstacle course_ , not a jungle gym, and second, there are some things that are considered challenging even for adults."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say."

"I'll prove it to you," he said.

"How?"

"I'll bring you there."

They blushed.

"F-fine. Sunday at eleven in the morning," she stammered, keeping her chin up despite her red face. He visibly perked up, and at that, she raised a finger. "But—"

His back slackened.

"—we have to bring Alya and Nino." She backed away from him and continued on with her lunch, leaving Adrien smiling to himself.

:..:

It was almost four in the afternoon, but Armand wasn't letting up even if dismissal was thirty minutes away. He constantly demanded for re-runs of their new drill, yelling at those who stepped on their left foot on an even count and roasting those who failed to keep up. Theo tried calming him down but to no avail. Armand was strict, keeping the marchers from taking another water break and forcing them to work in the summer heat of Paris.

And while Armand was currently pestering Ivan for being too slow, Marinette found herself in front of Alya, who was only two steps to her back left.

"Psst, Mari," Alya whispered, swinging her clarinet lazily. The bell smacked her in the arm.

Marinette turned to her, sweat plastering her stray hairs to her forehead. "What?"

"My hair tie broke." She lifted the string and flung at her. Marinette slapped it away. "Do you have another one?"

The first clarinet player groaned, taking apart one pigtail and handing it to her. "Don't break it. That's your grandchild you're holding," she warned, pulling off her other pigtail with no mercy. She tucked her instrument between her bare thighs as she pulled her hair into another sloppy bun, the one that Adrien favored the most.

"What?" Alya asked, bringing her long hair into a high ponytail. Her glasses slid down her nose because of the sweat and oil combined. She nudged it up with her shoulder. "Grandchildren?" she muttered.

"Those hair ties are my babies," Marinette explained, facing front. She had her hand saluted over her eyes, blocking the sunlight from blinding her. "I wish I brought my sunglasses," she murmured.

"Practice is almost over. Chill."

Someone poked Marinette on her elbow. It was Mylene this time.

"Sorry, Marinette," the piccolo player said to her, fidgeting under the taller girl's gaze, "d-do you have a hair tie?" Although Mylene had her headband keeping her dreadlocks back, it was still long enough to get everywhere in its frizzy state.

And with those words said, Marinette's worst fear had come true.

"Yeah, this is my last one," Marinette said, taking apart her bun mercilessly. Mylene started to protest, but she reassured her that she didn't need it. (It was a lie. Marinette was dying under her scorching hot hair. She could fry an egg over her head.)

Now she was facing the sun head-on, suffering miserably under her thick, obsidian mane.

Then someone else nudged her left knee with scalding metal. She almost yelped but bit on her tongue before Armand can yell through his megaphone: "No talking or else we're staying here until 5!" She looked up on the podium and saw him spitting insults at Ivan, who was hiding in the shadow of his sousaphone.

She turned around, a glare already in place. But it was just Adrien, who was holding out his Ray-Ban sunglasses to her.

He was just as sweaty as the other marchers, his golden bangs gelled back with sweat, making him look even _more_ attractive (if it was even possible). His shirt was higher up on his hips at the back while one hand was pulling at the hem of the front, flapping humid air up his toned abs and chest.

She shook her head immediately, pupils wide. "No, no, I can't take it. It's okay, really." Why was she lying so much today? She was too nice; that's why.

But he shook his head, tossing it to her and watching her fumble to catch it. He grinned. "You need it more than I do," he said, scanning her image.

She was perspiring immensely due to her black hair, which was let down because of snagging girls who didn't come prepared for the heat. The color of her shiny locks heated up her scalp much faster than the blonds, and the length of it didn't help either. It was long enough to cover the back of her neck, making her soak through the fabric of her _Thing 1_ tank top.

Her short-shorts did her justice, though, at the very least. It covered as little as possible, allowing her legs to breathe in the hot and sticky air of the park. But it also enabled lingering eyes to take in every muscle and mole on her toned legs.

Adrien bit his lip, suddenly very nervous.

His eyes caught the motion of her shooting him a thumbs-up. He pulled his lips into a smile.

She looked painfully adorable with his glasses covering half of her face. _His_ glasses, the one he claimed was his precious child that no one was to ever touch, on _her_ face. It looked like it belonged there, with its blue arms and its black lens hugging her face.

 _I can always buy a new pair_ , he thought, sucking on his bottom lip.

Someone clapped six rhythmic beats, the command of attention forcing everyone into position.

"Why are you talking?" Mme Mendeleiev screeched through the megaphone. The whole marching band cringed to the loud, high-pitched squeal of the device, passersby flinching to the unexpected noise. "You are all supposed to be in the same position as we left off! Color guard, flags _up_!"

Nooroo urged the other guard members to raise their flags to right shoulder, paying Pierre the most attention. He noticed the shorter boy having trouble keeping the pole that was almost twice the size of him vertical, so he sent some encouraging words to his cousin.

"Saxes," Armand joined in, "I don't want to see dangling instruments."

Adrien, Plagg, Nino, and many others brought up their saxophones, wincing as the neck straps scraped against their newly burnt skin.

"Trumpets, I don't see your horns up!"

Alix, Max, Julian, and others moaned, heaving their arms up and pointing their warm trumpets to the sky. Their arm muscles were too sore to maintain that position.

"Clarinets, those aren't to be swung around."

Tikki's glare at Alya and Marinette made them stop. The girls looked guiltily at her before bringing their mouthpieces to their lips. Jean shook his head, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

"Trombones, stop playing with the slides."

Kim stopped jabbing Michael and held up his trombone, keeping it directed to the horizon. Michael followed suit.

"I didn't say 'at ease,' flutes."

Lila, Rose, Juleka, and Nathanael groaned and rolled their shoulder muscles, bringing the warm and damp metal to their lower lip. Lila purposefully lifted her shirt up to her stomach, fanning her skin while staring at Adrien, but the blond was already in position and didn't see.

"Percussion!" Manon, Wayzz, Takkar, and Amelia startled. "I didn't say to take off the braces! Pit, stop playing with the sticks!"

Members of the pit located at the base of the stand stopped twirling the wooden sticks in their hands.

"Good!" Armand yelled. "Now take it back to the part where—WAIT!" He cut himself off and stood straighter. His stony orbs scanned the crowd. " _Where are my drums majors_?!" he screamed.

Marinette and Adrien stared wide-eyed at each other before sprinting towards him at the same time. He couldn't help but keep his eyes linger on his bobbing sunglasses perched on her nose.

"He said he'd conduct, didn't he?" Adrien hissed to her.

"Yeah, but _I don't know what's going on._ Oh my Lord, we're so fucked," she whispered. He smiled at the oxymoron.

"I'm scared now," he said.

Armand glowered at them as they stopped by the base. "I just realized that _I've_ been leading the marching band while _you_ should have been in my place."

"But sir—"

Adrien was interrupted with a raised hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"M D'Argencourt," Marinette tried this time.

He spoke over her, addressing the whole band, "Due to the drum majors—"

Theo suddenly appeared behind him and tapped his shoulders, effectively cutting him off. The main director of the band stopped his spiel, blinking as Theo frantically whispered something behind his hands.

"Oh," Armand said.

"Yes," the co-director said, stepping off the podium.

"Oh!" M D'Argencourt laughed on his own, the rare, alien sound striking the thick air. He stopped abruptly (they all knew it was fake, anyway) and reset his facial features, which had been set on its default mode: angry. This time, he looked sheepish. "Ahh, I'm sorry, Mlle Marinette, M Adrien. It seems that I have made a mistake." He bowed.

They looked at each other with disgusted faces, then back at the director.

"You may go back to your spots. I forgot I told you that I'd be conducting for the first day."

"It's okay, M D'Argencourt," Adrien said, tugging on Marinette's fingers to pull her back. "Hurry," he whispered in her ear, "I can't stand being in his presence anymore."

She nodded and sprinted back to her spot, looking at Alya as a landmarker. She exhaled her nervousness, her cheeks puffing out, and brought her clarinet back up to her lips.

Adrien panted next to her, leaning on his knees for a few seconds before lifting his tenor up and parallel to his body.

They shared one last look, complete with exhausted smiles.

Day 1 of Band Camp: 68.18% completed.  
Estimated time remaining: 3 hours and 30 minutes.  
Do not shut down body.

* * *

End Notes: Guys guys guys gusyug syuuys guyus guys guess what!? I realized that there is minimal plot :T There's only a few things going on. (Watch out for felix wink wonk.) Why didn't I think this thru. Was this a mistake.

No. It's difficult but I wanna get it out of me.

Spoiler alert: they go to Disney World like my band did :3


	5. Als and the Nin Disease

**A/N:** it's a lot of comedy in this chapter. Suggestive themes, be warned. Alya is Alya. (btw i'm a bit upset bc someone else wrote a marching band au but I have no right to bc I never claimed I owned this au :c augh I need to stop being a baby ok ok bye)

* * *

"Alright, bring it in," Theo said.

Everyone cried out in relief, some falling on their knees and crawling, others staggering towards the podium. Sounds of thirsty drinking filled the air as they waited for the whole band to gather around.

"You all did a wonderful job today," Mme Mendeleiev said without cracking a grin. They knew she was only saying it to make them feel better. The color guard instructor had no emotions, no mercy, no _nothing_.

"Yes. We are all proud of you," Armand added flatly.

"So tonight, we'd like you all to take a wonderful break," Mlle Bustier said, a sincere smile drawing grins from the teenagers. "Currently it is ten oh-nine, and tomorrow morning at eight o'clock _sharp_ , we expect you to be here ready for warm-ups. Alright?"

Silence. Their lungs have been abused by merciless hours of playing and swinging heavy flags. Oxygen was considered too precious to waste over unnecessary talking.

"Please do not stay in the park too long. We all want you home in twenty minutes. _No socializing_ ," Theo warned. "Save your energy for the next six days of Band Camp. Yeah?"

A lifeless cheer.

"Yeah?!"

A bit more effort (and oxygen, ohno) was put into their whooping.

"I don't hear you!"

Everyone forced the last drops of energy out as they screamed, " _Yeah!"_ It echoed throughout the sleeping streets, leaving them dead.

"Alright, go home, all of you." The four instructors shooed off the marchers, guiding them through the dimly lit park to their cases and belongings.

Marinette collapsed at her clarinet case, Alya weakly nudging her to get up.

"Mari, get up."

"No. Leave me here. I'm dead," she moaned.

"Girl, you live _right_ across the street. You can make it," Alya said with a twinge of jealousy.

"Stay over. You're gonna pass out on the streets and someone will kidnap you and you will never see my beautiful children."

"I have one of them," she pointed out with a chuckle, yanking the hair tie off.

"Yeah, I know. Now give Sally back." Marinette rolled onto her knees and held out her hand, wiggling fingers urging her to hurry up. Alya dropped a wad of hair and tie in her hand. "Ew! Your hair is all _over_ it!"

She shrugged. "Oops."

"Stay over please?" Marinette begged, jutting out her quivering lower lip.

"Fine," she said, closing her case. She grumbled as she pushed herself to stand. "Hurry up, Mari. I wanna go to sleep."

"Sorry, sorry." After running her rag through Claire, she put it away and stood up.

And looked around.

Only a few people remained, some still chatting despite Theo's words, others on their phones as they waited for rides. The two guard instructors were chatting with each other, the younger woman smiling broadly while Mme Mendeleiev kept interrupting her by screaming at kids to _get out of the road if you wanna live_.

Nino and Adrien were still here, too. _Good_.

Marinette was about to offer her place to sleep over and return the shades, but Adrien gave Nino a shoulder bump and turned around to look for someone.

To look for _her_ , Marinette Huiqing Dupain-Cheng.

His jade eyes locked with her sapphire ones and gave her a two-finger salute. He turned around and walked away but kept glancing back at her over his shoulders, shooting a smirk with every look.

"Wait," she weakly said, holding up his sunglasses and pointing to them, "your glasses." But he already turned a corner.

Alya's chin rested on her shoulder and said groggily, "You're pretty special to him, y'know."

"How do you know that?" Marinette's gaze was still on the place Adrien was at a few moments ago.

Alya sighed; no matter how many hints she dropped, Marinette was still tentative to believe that Adrien reciprocated her feelings. And to be honest, Marinette was absolutely terrified if he returned her feelings or not. Because if he didn't, she'd have to relive seventh grade, which was also known as her Hell Year. Additionally, she thought that someone like him—heir of Agreste Symphonic Orchestra and son of the most talented conductor/musician of all time—would never want someone like _her_ , a girl with too many faces to count.

With every push of Alya came lame excuses. Some were obvious lies that Alya could detect, others were honest feelings.

 _He's the son of Gabriel Agreste, the president and leader of Agreste Symphonic Orchestra. Adrien would want someone_ better _, a girl who can play three instruments he like himself._

 _Just give me another year, and then I'll get over him. Remember Joseph? Frederick? Remember_ Henry _?! Trust me, Al. He's just another phase._

 _I'm . . . I'm scared. What if he doesn't like me? What if I get_ hurt _? I don't want to date him if I don't know him that well. He could have some kind of ulterior motive._

 _Psshh, c'mon Alya!_ She would laugh. _Adrien? Liking_ me _?! Is it April Fools already? Or is it July? Because you July'd to me!_

It was funny to watch her spew lies, but it was also painful. Alya just wanted to reveal _everything_.

"He gave you his shades," Alya said.

"Th-that doesn't prove anything!" she said a little too loudly, gaining the attention of the directors. In a hiss, she added, "He was just being nice and lended them to me."

"That's the thing, though," she pointed out as she dragged Marinette across the street and into the bakery. They padded up the steps, careful not to wake her sleeping parents. "Adrien never lends those pair of sunglasses. He guards it with his _life_ ," she said as she got comfortable on the chaise. She was changed in one of Marinette's pajamas, her and Marinette's clothes thrown in the mesh hamper.

Marinette tossed a thin blanket down from her loft and huddled in her comforters. Even though it was summer, she refused to sleep without a blanket. But she wasn't too hot: she slept in her underwear.

"Maybe it wasn't the same pair," Marinette retorted, lying down on her back and pulling the sheets up to her armpits. She held up Adrien's sunglasses, folding and unfolding it until she was too tired. She placed it on the shelf, eyes lingering for a second too long.

"Oho, no," Alya laughed, "you are _wrong_ , little girl. That very pair you were wearing—the blue arms and the black lens, the _Aviator_ shades—it's known as his precious _child_. No one has ever worn them, not even _Chloe_. And Chloe was his childhood friend!"

She scoffed. "Whatever. You're crazy. Go to sleep."

"What's the point of wanting to _be_ with him? You dub him as the love of your life, yet you can't make a move on him!"

"Alya, I only say that because I get awkward and crazy when I like someone! I can get over it. It's only a crush; same old, same old." Marinette finally settled onto her side, her back facing Alya. "He'll give up on me when he finds out how 'fake' I am."

"Stop trying to protect yourself!" Alya shouted, agitated. "I know of the Felix incident"—Marinette visibly stiffened—"but Adrien is not like him. Just give him a chance. Trust me."

Marinette felt tears prick her eyes. In a tight voice, she said, "Alya, you _know_ me. I get the silliest crushes! Like, I used to like Frederick because of his _jaw line_. Then I got over him because this other dude had the sexiest voice. And then that little phase ended because Joseph _gave me a pencil_. Adrien's just another one of those phony obsessions."

"You've liked him since last year. When's this little phase gonna end, huh?"

"Soon," she lied. "Because they never last over two years. Someone better always comes. Always." Marinette felt her insides churn as she said this, but she only blinked tightly and controlled her erratic breathing. "We're friends. And I don't want to ruin that."

"By the end of marching band, you're not," she grumbled, taking off her glasses and snuggling into the throw pillow.

:..:

Adrien had managed to skip out on private lessons Nathalie scheduled that night. He had blubbered an excuse about how badly he needed to pee. So he went to his room, locked all entryways, and never heard from Nathalie that night.

Now he was on the phone with Nino, eyes struggling to stay open when his cool pillows called for him to dream, but it was too much of an important talk to sleep on.

"You did well, Adrien," Nino said, laughing quietly. "I think you got her with the whole sunglasses episode."

He flushed, his body now feeling too warm in its white tank top and boxers. "She looked like she was about to pass out. I couldn't just stand back and _watch_."

"You could've." He pictured Nino shrugging his shoulders. "But you actually gave your baby away. You've prided those shades for how many years up until now?"

Adrien didn't respond.

"Exactly. This is the first time you've felt this way about anyone, right?"

"Yeah."

"You know," he said, stretching the last word, "it could be because of your seclusion to the world; there could be other _better_ women out there."

The blond choked. "N-no there aren't. And this has nothing to do with my homeschooling," he protested.

Nino laughed quietly. "You're such a sap. I'm hanging up now. 'Night, man."

"'Night," Adrien mumbled, dropping his phone onto the bedside table. He plugged it in and sighed helplessly, eyes fluttering closed instantly.

The next morning, the image of Marinette's face covered with his Ray-Ban glasses was still etched in his mind.

:..:

"Mari, you're stark naked. Get up before I send a nude to Adrien," Alya said, standing on the ladder. She cackled when Marinette's eyes snapped open as she yelled and tugged the blanket over her body.

"Alya!" she screamed, hiding her flustered cheeks.

"It's almost seven thirty. We're gonna be late," she said. "I'm using your clothes." She grabbed a shirt from her closet and closed the bathroom door shut with her hip. The sound of running water replaced the quietness.

"Ugh," Marinette said, getting up and using her blanket as a cape.

She snatched the sunglasses from its place and descended the ladder ungracefully, making sure to cover every patch of skin on her body. Clutching a bundle of sheets and the Aviator shades in one hand, the other skimmed through her closet.

"What's the theme?" she shouted to the bathroom.

"Superhero day," came the muffled response.

A few minutes later, Alya opened the door, wearing a white tank top with the shield of Captain America imprinted in the center. Her hair was dripping wet, having been shunned from a towel. The clothes and shorts stuck to her body from the water that wasn't dried.

Marinette tossed her a towel. It draped over her head.

"Thanks."

"I don't have many superhero shirts. You're wearing my favorite one," Marinette said to herself, the clicking of hangers making her grow impatient. "I'll just wear the one Woo gave me." She tugged on a hanger, pulling out a red t-shirt with a faded W and wings on the front.

Alya's nose wrinkled. "How _old_ is that thing?"

"It's not _old_ ," she said, getting defensive as she tightened her hold on her cape, "it's just the design, Al."

"Sure, sure." She rolled her eyes. "Take a shower and change."

"Yes, Mom."

In ten minutes, Marinette emerged from the bathroom, hair still clumped together and skin still soft. Dots of water peppered her shirt as she forced a brush through the tangles, wincing as her locks were tugged out.

Alya was already downstairs, and she could hear her converse with her parents, apologizing about the sudden stay and Tom chuckling that it was alright. Sabine was surprised, but she still had her arms open to Alya. She was like Sabine's second daughter anyway.

Marinette gave one glance at herself, the glasses hanging on the collar of the t-shirt causing her heart stammer. She bit her lip and turned away, scurrying down the stairs.

"Morning, Papa, Maman," she said, greeting them with kisses on the cheeks. Marinette joined Alya on a bar stool and shoveled cereal in her mouth.

"Sorry we couldn't cook more for you girls," Sabine said, leaning her elbows on the counter. "I gave Alya your eggs, if that's okay."

Marinette waved her hand, unbothered. "Nah, that's fine. I'm the one who dumped another person here." Alya elbowed her in the side, making her splutter milk through her nose. She wiped the back of her hand against her face, being the animal she was. "Cereal is fine."

"Sugar and milk can't keep you full for seven hours, Marinette," Tom said, handing her a giant glass of water. "Drink lots of water to keep you full."

"Then I'll have to pee in the middle of Band Camp," she complained.

Alya snickered. "You live across the street."

"But if I miss even a _minute_ , I can miss three sets of the performance. Armand gets a _lot_ done in a hundred milliseconds. And besides, we can't leave the park," she said, lifting the bowl and drinking the milk. This time, Tom muffled her mouth with a washcloth, wiping off her milk moustache.

"Mind your manners," he said with a strict look.

"Sorry, Papa."

"We should get going soon," Alya said, picking up her clarinet case, which was left by the door next to Marinette's. She looked at her phone. "It's seven fifty-seven."

"Ohhhh"—she stopped her tongue before she could blurt out a curse in front of her parents and coughed into her first—"well, we're off."

"Have fun." Sabine waved them off.

"We'll try," Alya called back, closing the door behind them.

:..:

"Marching band is fun and all," Marinette lazily drawled as she pushed the pieces of her clarinet together, "but band camp is pure _hell_."

Alya aligned her reed on her mouthpiece, saying absentmindedly, "I agree with you one hundred percent." She tightened the screws and stood up with a sigh. Then she scouted for Nino and Adrien, hoping to bring the squad back together.

Alya found them already in their lines, both swinging their saxes on their straps. She left Marinette without a second thought, but Marinette didn't know.

"It's just the _weather_ , y'know?" she continued. "It's too hot out here, D'Argencourt"—she didn't bother using honorifics—"is a freakin' _slave_ driver, and Mendeleiev is just flat-out _abusive_. I feel so bad for the color guard.

"But then again, they have Mlle Bustier, who is two times better than M Theo." She paused and then shrugged, disagreeing with herself. "Well, they're _both_ equal, I guess." She gasped after blowing warm air into her clarinet. "I can see them as a couple! I mean, they're incredibly _nice_ and _young_ , I just want to tie them together and see—"

"Wow, kinky, Mari," a new voice interjected.

The blue-haired girl flinched and turned around, seeing three figures looming over her. She jumped up, viewing Alya, Nino, and Adrien a few yards away over the shoulder of—

"Hey, it's Kim the Koreaboo!" she said, a smirk rivalling his. Kim's smile dropped, an embarrassed scowl on his face.

"Says the Weeb," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hmm?" she hummed, ignoring his comment and trying to look at the design of his shirt. (Kim's eyebrow twitched. _That girl . . ._ ) "What hero are _you_ supposed to be?" She pried his arms apart without straining a single muscle as he held back. "Cool. You like Flash?"

He nodded, his head bobbing to the right and left. "It's the only shirt I had."

She pursed her lips, greeting the others. "Hey, Max. How're you doing with the braces?"

"I am awaiting for the depths of the earth to engulf me and welcome me home at Hell," the gamer said darkly, punching on the metal mouthpiece. "I just got them tightened last Saturday, and it _still_ hurts." He moved his jaw for emphasis, cringing at every movement. "Yet Mom continues to force me to go to trumpet lessons."

Marinette gave him a small pat on the shoulder. "You'll make it through." Then her blue eyes moved onto Michael and his shirt. "Hey, Woo the Wonder Wooman. Ha, get it?" She rose her hand, waiting for a high-five.

"What's good, Net?" The trombone player accepted her hand and shoved his shoulder into hers. "Looks like we're matching today." He straightened his shirt, extending the hem out to get a better look.

"Only because you gave me this shirt, like, years ago," she agreed, laughing. Then she realized that she was actually socializing with people that weren't Alya and Nino and Adrien. "Wait, why are you here anyway?"

"You're kinda blocking the water fountain," Kim pointed out, his sharp chin pointing to the stone water fountain past her. The Vietnamese male sent her a smirk.

Marinette turned around, finally aware that she was, indeed, standing directly in front of it. "Oh," she said, "sorry about that."

She gently kicked her clarinet case and coolor to the side, maneuvering her body around to give the boys full access.

"Thanks, Pain," Michael said, brushing his brown bangs to the side.

"Can you settle with one name for me, Woo? By the end of camp, I'll be responding to Goose and Chair."

:..:

Adrien _really_ wished for this conversation to take an end. Alya was explicitly describing Marinette's sleeping habits, making sure to get him embarrassed on purpose. That sadistic little—

"And then I told her I would send Adrien a nu—"

"Oh look, here she comes!" Adrien interrupted, his voice cracking.

She was dressed in a Wonder Woman shirt with his glasses hooked on the collar, swinging Claire ("Don't ask," Alya told them after she explained Marinette's naming habits. "She just named her clarinet Claire.") and waving at other marchers as she walked by.

And now she was standing in front of Adrien.

"Alya, I can't believe you just left me," Marinette complained, leaning her forehead against Alya's back. "I just embarrassed myself in front of Kim's Crooked Crew."

"The KK—"

"Stop," Adrien cut Nino off by shoving his hand over his lips. He recoiled with a disgusted look when something wet dragged across his palm. "Gross! Did you just _lick_ me?"

Nino winked. "Works every time."

"How? How'd you embarrass yourself?" Alya leaned towards the boys, whispering, "I bet it's something inappropriate."

Nino nodded slowly with a grin and Adrien spluttered.

"So I was ranting on and on about how bad the band directors are, but then I got on the topic of Mlle Bustier and M Theo," she said, her eyes trained on the ground. "So I got a bit carried away in my ships—"

"Ships?" Adrien whispered.

"Relationships, dude," Nino elaborated.

"—and then I said, 'I want to tie them together.' But I didn't mean that! I just wanted to see how things would turn out if they were stuck with each other. Would they confess? Highly unlikely.

"And Kim's Crew was right behind me. Kim said, 'Kinky, Marinette' ahughahughahugh." To exaggerate the laugh, she mimicked Goofy's chortle, wiggling her fingers as she rolled her eyes sarcastically. Her expression went flat again. "I bet they all think I'm some horny teenager," she admitted, burying her face in her hands.

Adrien's jaw dropped. _Shy, sassy, and sexually inclined . . . ?_ He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Marinette openly talked about . . . _arousing_ topics.

Alya leaned her head back and cackled loudly, slapping her hands on her thighs. "I _told_ you! I told you! Get REKT!" she shouted, shoving Nino around.

Nino let her, snickering and drunkenly staggering around, clutching at his stomach behind his bari. "Wow, Mari. _Wow_."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "But," she started again in a more chipper voice, innocence glossing over her eyes, "I managed to make some small talk with them because I didn't know I was blocking the water fountain. Turns out Michael, my old friend and the tromboner"—Adrien gagged, Alya laughed too hard to make noise, and Nino was bent over—"is matching with me! See—guys? Guys, what's wrong?"

Alya gasped for a breath, wheezing as she let out another round of giggles. "I'm absolutely positive that people now think you're a hormonal girl, Mari."

Said girl blinked in oblivion. "What?"

"Really?" Nino said. "'I sleep naked', 'tie them together' and 'trom _boner_ '?" Her face lit up. "You deserve to be embarrassed." He slapped a hand on her shoulder and failed to bite back his snickers. After recovering, he seriously said, "You're innocent and all, but you really need to watch what you're saying."

She nodded, unable to reply.

Alya, who had calmed down, added, "What a good day." She wiped a tear away, stomach screaming in pain. "I better have abs from all that laughing."

Adrien interjected, "You don't actually—"

"I don't like that attitude, Agreste!" Alya yelled over him. He pouted. Then she said, "Ooh, Superman, eh?"

He looked down, nodding. "Yeah."

"They say Wonder Woman and Superman are a thing, y'know?" Alya said, bumping shoulders with him. Marinette stuttered, telling her to shut up.

"I'm Ironman," Nino said.

Alya turned to him, hands on hips. "No one asked you, Nin."

He rolled his eyes, leaned his head back, and groaned. "Stop ruining my name!"

"Never," she said. "I'll get to abuse everyone's name. It's my job as Squad Mom." She faced Adrien. "AIDS." Then at Marinette. "Mars." Alya pointed at herself. "Als."

"I do not want to be associated with diseases."

"And I don't want to be a _planet_. You're ostracizing me, putting me on a different world than all of you."

Adrien laughed out loud. "That was a good pun."

Marinette stared at him blankly until she processed her words. Her jaw gently dropped as she nodded slowly. "Oh. I get it." Then she smacked his upper arm. "You're a dork."

"But hey, on the bright side, at least you're not stuck with these idiots," Adrien said to her, jabbing his thumb at Nino and Alya.

"You're all lucky your name means something. What the hell does _Nin_ mean?"

"Well, what about Als?" Alya retorted.

"It's plural for the proper noun Al," Marinette quipped.

"Hush, Daughter. I'm not in the mood for your smarts."

"Please, _Als_ , explain to me what _Nin_ means," Nino sarcastically said.

"Fine, _Nin_ ," she said, her voice clipped. " _Nin_ means, um—It's . . . it's an acronym for _Never Ingest Nino_ ," she said in all seriousness. "Yeah. And if you _do_ , you get the Nin Disease."

"Umm," they all said. Nino looked at her with a flat expression: eyes set in a blank stare and all facial muscles relaxed.

"Yeah, and all the Als in the world get the Nin Disease because they ate Nino's nuts," Adrien added with a wink, earning a shove from Nino. He laughed as his body was sent backwards, right into Marinette's face.

"Ow!" she yelled as her nose jammed in his shoulder, although she did take the opportunity to take a nice whiff of his cologne. But her throbbing nose was a bigger priority than Adrien's perfume. "You little bastard of all fuckery—"

Alya snickered by a red-faced Nino.

 _Terribly shy, extremely sassy, open about personal things, innocent at the same time,_ and _scary when angry? That's Wow and WTF bundled up in one person,_ Adrien thought.

"Sorry, sorry, Marinette!" he said quickly, raising his arms in a defensive stance.

She covered her nose in one hand and her clarinet in the other, which started to look like a lance in her grip. His eyes widened.

"Mari, don't let the _Nin Disease_ get to you," he said seriously, his acting skills making her snarl. "If you touch me, I'll give you AIDS!" he threatened pathetically when she started crawling closer to him.

"AIDS is only transferred through specific body fluids, you dimwit," Nino said, thwacking him upside the head.

Alya started howling, clinging onto Nino as her knees buckled.

At the implication of Adrien's words, both blushed a deep red, Marinette only growing angry and flustered to (unshed) tears.

"You . . . _stupid cat!_ " she screamed, launching at him and jabbing the end of her instrument into his ribs. She repeatedly 'stabbed' him, her cheeks turning darker and darker. "Stupid, pathetic, dumb, _ugly cat_! You're embarrassing me on purpose, aren't you?!" She was smiling and in happy tears despite her words.

"No! I promise I had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable! Gah! Don't touch my sides! Sorry, I said I was sorry! Mari!"

:..:

Meanwhile with the color guard, they were all playing Fuck, Marry, Kill.

"I would totally marry M Theo," Aurore said, counting off on her fingers, "then I'd kill Mme Mendeleiev, and then I'd, um—"

"C'mon, it's just the F word," Nooroo teased, lightly nudging her.

"Then I'd," she tried again, "f-f-fudge M D'Argencourt." She blushed heavily, hiding her face behind her shades as she ducked her chin into her collarbone.

"Really now?" Sabrina asked.

"Well what do you expect?" Chloe said. "Armand was actually _attractive_ back then." She was too busy inspecting her nails to notice the stares she received. But what she noticed was the silence. She looked up. "What?"

"H-how do you know that?" Pierre asked.

"Daddy used to go to school with him three hundred ninety-seven years ago," she exaggerated.

"Oh . . ."

"Okay Pierre," Nooroo suddenly said. His younger cousin looked up with worried eyes. "Among Choe, Sabrina, and Aurore, who would you . . ."

:..:

"Oh my gosh, Adrien, _I'msosorry_!"

Marinette held her fingers up to her mouth, her clarinet on the grass. She ran towards Adrien and pulled his hand away from the lower-half of his face.

"Let me see," she said, stepping up onto her toes and leaning her face towards his jaw.

During her tantrum, she rammed her mouthpiece into Adrien's jaw and snapped her reed in half. After he stopped deflecting her stabs and punches, she knew something was wrong. She had backed up and had seen his hands clamped over his chin.

And now she was driving Adrien crazy with her body so close to his. He could smell her shampoo under his nose and watched with unfocused eyes as her fingers pressed against his skin.

"You're not bleeding," she murmured, her breath fanning his lips. She stepped back with a frown on her face. "I'm so sorry, Adrien."

"No, it's fine. Really," he said, rubbing the sore spot with his clammy hands. The initial pain was bad, but it subsided and started to form a bruise. He smiled boyishly. "I'll suck it up."

Her pout only grew. "Sorry. I just get a bit crazy sometimes," she admitted.

 _Okay. Crazy is now added to the list_. _Crazy_ strong.

"If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me." She backed up and looked at the ground for her clarinet.

Adrien smirked.

"Show me your biceps," he said eagerly, sparkles radiating from his hopeful expression. She froze, hunched over her clarinet. She blinked at him, a questioning look on her face, but she couldn't say no to those bulging green eyes and that precious, dimple-forming smile.

Without a word but with slight hesitation, she pulled up her short sleeve and flexed, drawing out a loud roar.

"Woah! You are so _ripped_!" he exclaimed, running to her side and feeling her muscles.

She blushed, her tight muscles loosening whenever calloused fingers skimmed over the dips and hills of her arms. He was so close to her, his chest lightly touching her shoulder, his tenor pressing against the back of her thighs, and his eager breathing running over her neck and cheeks.

Marinette was doomed. She tightly closed her eyes and bit onto her lips. _It's just a crush. Nothing more_. And unfortunately, the platonic look in Adrien's eyes seemed to agree with her.

But she didn't know that Adrien was afraid of making her uncomfortable if he looked at her with such a heavy gaze only a person would give his lover. He was being careful with her, controlling himself and moving slowly since he thought he intimidated her. He was the son of a powerful man who ran the most skilled band, after all.

His short-term goal was creating a stable friendship with her. His long-term goal was to ask for her hand in marriage.

. . .

Maybe that's too extreme.

His _new_ long-term goal was asking her out on a date.

Easy. Right?

* * *

 **A/N:** Read this if you want. Otherwise, you can skip c:

With every small crush (Frederick, Joseph, etc), those feelings were never reciprocated, and Marinette always knew that. So she found it easy to get over them and move on. But with Alya and Nino breathing down her neck that Adrien likes her, she starts to find it difficult to ignore the urge to ask Adrien out. However, she can't and she's aware of that. This is because she is terrified of getting hurt. Something tragic happened to her while she was in her first relationship, which heavily traumatized her and influenced her to believe that she could never enter a serious relationship. Aka, she's scared of going into a romantic relationship even though she has billions of silly crushes.

Let's just say I hate this chapter the most and I have no idea what i'm writing. ;A;


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